


Her Purpose

by Filthr



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alive Felassan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Another mysterious elf, Arlathan (Dragon Age), Demons, Especially about ancient elves, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, NSFW in later chapters, One-Sided Love, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Spirits, The Fade, The whole gang is here, lots of headcannons, love triangles kinda, mage sympathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 94,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29217852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filthr/pseuds/Filthr
Summary: He thought her dead for a millennium. Before he ever tore down the veil and destroyed their world even further. All because of their own actions. They had killed Mythal. They had killed her. He would not forgive them. Could not. They had taken everything from him. So how was she standing there smiling at the young inquisitor? Offering her hand to help the Dalish elf back to her feet after she’d helped seal the rift.-x-x-x-She had awakened to a world detached from itself. Fear of magic, of spirits and the fade. It had been so long since she’d been awake, she didn’t know what to do. Everything she knew was gone. Everyone she knew was gone. She felt hopeless. But she knew her purpose. So, she followed it. And somehow, her purpose always leads her back to him.Chapter 20 now an official chapter and not the authors note. :)
Relationships: Fen'Harel (Dragon Age)/Original Elvhen Character(s), Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Fen'Harel/Solas (Dragon Age), Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 54
Kudos: 62





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This is my first DAI story, but it's been rattling around my head for so long I need to release it. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.  
> For future reference, this fic will hold a lot of my own personal beliefs and headcanons, it will diverge from canon eventually. It will also continue past the main storyline. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Deep emerald eyes shone with reminiscence as they gazed over long auburn hair, just the right shade of reddish-brown that brought back memories of a time long since passed. Too much time. The beat of her heart quickens in her ears, but almost immediately it froze, sending ice through her veins once more. The once warm gaze turning cold as it took in the round edge of the young man's ears. The wrong shape. It was always the wrong shape. They always would be. No matter how hard she wished or hoped. That auburn hair would never turn to reveal the piercing blue eyes from her memories. The memories she tried oh so hard to bury beneath the millennia's that had passed since she'd last lived them. And for the most part, she was successful. How long had it been since she found herself swallowed in her past, mind so far gone that her body simply froze in time? Years. It had been years. So why now? Why had her mind tricked and tormented her so? Was she sleeping? Was it a demon of her own design? Desire always whispered in her mind. Her greatest fear. There were so many things she desired, but it was never worth the cost. Never worth losing her purpose over. And with that, the woman shook the thoughts from her head and returned to her previous chore.

Unconsciously, her eyes betrayed her once more as they sort the auburn crown that had brought back memories that she both cherished and shunned. In her memories place stood a hunter, she presumed. Wrapped in leather with two daggers attached firmly to his hips. His thin lips spread in a tired grin at something his companion had said. No. It was not him. It never would be. Although now she was no longer lost in her memory, she still could not recognise his face. She had been in the Hinterlands for some months now. Far longer than she had lingered anywhere else. Lingering brought too much attention. Too much risk. And she had so many risks. But this place needed her. This place where the hungry and hurt huddled into tiny tents and froze in the chilly winter air. Chapped lips praying to their gods for the fighting and death to end to no avail. No gods would help them. She had given up on gods long ago. But this man. She had not seen him before. He could simply be a new refugee, or possibly someone else to help hunt for the refugees in the dangerous climate, but she wasn't sure. He was too full. Too muscular. Not someone who was eating the scraps left behind by the Redcliffe Castle for months on end.

Dark brown eyebrows furrowed together as keen eyes took in more of the man. He had a green gape wrapped around his shoulders, likely a hood, that was held together by a polished symbol. A sword in an eye. A religion? No. She had been awake long enough to know most beliefs, and none, especially a human's faith had such a symbol. An organisation? Maybe. Although hard to believe something like that wouldn't be out here after all this time. No one seemed to care for the poor people dying out here in the cold while the mages bundled up tight in the village walls. A swell of anger curled in her heart. Despicable.

Quickly releasing those thoughts, she turned back to her duties. Picking up the basket of Elfroot and Spindleweed she'd been collecting all morning for the few healers that remained. Many had left to save themselves. She could not blame them entirely. Few people in the world were selfless enough to put others pain before their own, especially with their lives on the line. And with every passing day, that fear drew closer as the rebel mages and templars hatred grew, tarnishing their thoughts. Uncaring of anyone who happened to be caught in the middle of it all. So, she would help where she could. Whether it was gathering herbs, going hunting for food or organising tents and supplies. She would be what these people needed most. It was her purpose. All that she clung to.

Humming a soft tune, she walked her way towards the healer's hut, however before she could even make it to the stairs, she was suddenly surrounded by gleeful giggling. She stopped as a small body suddenly ran in front of her, and another quickly followed. Two chubby, dirt-covered faces stared up at her with bright, mischievous grins. Their eyes twinkling in the sunlight as their hands remained clasped to one another tightly. She couldn't help the smile that filled her lips as she looked down at them with a slightly raised eyebrow. Still, before she could utter a greeting to the two who'd blocked her path, she was caught between the two as they stepped forward quickly and wrapped themselves around her legs. Holding tight enough so that they could relax their legs enough to wholly lean against her for support. A small gasp left the woman's lips as she stood straight to try and hold them up and not topple over herself. A laugh rang from her lips.

"Ah, hello my little tricksters, what could I possibly do for you today?" She grinned down at them as they returned the gesture. Even from their odd poses below her. Mertle and Rhys. They were the twins of one of the healers. She had helped their mother when she first arrived in the Hinterlands.

_The poor woman had been out gathering herbs by herself and been ambushed by rebel templars. Luckily, there had only been two. She was very obviously not a woman accustomed to fighting or even running. A perfect target for the two men whose lecherous smiles seemed burned into Aravae's mind to this day. She had seen those smiles on many men in her life. And many of them templars. She'd quickly drawn her bow without much of a thought after watching one of them kick the woman's leg with enough force for her to immediately kneel and cry out in pain. Her arrow flew true, hitting the closest man right in the gaps of his helmet. A clean shot. One that was clearly practised. She then moved closer, hitching another arrow as the second man cried out in confusion, tearing his sword from its hilt and looking around wildly. His gaze hit hers, and her eyes narrowed in a fury. A twang sounded as another arrow was released. This one aimed at his knee, which sent the man tumbling to the ground in pain. He grabbed his wounded knee and cursed only to look up too late. She had made her way over to him quickly, silently. Practised. And then cracked her sturdy ironbark bow over his head hard enough to knock him out entirely for a time._

_Turning to the frightened woman, she held up her hands as if approaching a scared animal, placing her bow on the ground in a sign of peace. However, the pale woman could only look at the unconscious man who would have done more than hurt her only moments ago._

_"Are you hurt?" The young woman's head then turned to the strange woman placing down her bow. A dark navy hood covering almost all of her face in shadow. Her immediate reaction was to run; however, she quickly stopped herself. Her leg hurt terribly. She did not think it to be broken, but it hurt all the same. And this stranger had helped her, seemingly for no other reason than to help._

_"N-No. But we should leave quickly, if he is to wake up, we will both be killed." Scared brown eyes looked back to the solider. However, the hooded woman shook her head, stepping even closer and kneeling down to the other woman's level._

_"He will not wake. The poison is too strong. I simply knocked him out so he could not harm you further in the meantime." Fear once again latched at the injured lady's heart. But the other was gentle as she touched the leg that had been kicked. The healer hissed gently as her leg jerked away automatically. She hoped silently that her seeming saviour would not take it as an insult. A small frown curled on the archer's lips. Before she stood up to grab her bow and arrows from the men. Inspecting each tip with a grimace before placing them back into their rightful place._

_"I am Aravae. A hunter. I do not wish to harm you. You will need to be carried back to your village. I do not wish for you to harm your leg further." Her voice was strangely direct and did not hold much emotion. But the healer understood. Aravae was not a human's name, after all._

_"I-If it is not too much trouble. I can offer shelter and food for helping me, Miss." A small smile curled on the archers' lips then. She then knelt to the ground and gently wrapped the healer's arm around her shoulder for support before placing an arm around her back and under her knees, scooping her up without so much as a grunt of effort. The lady's cheeks flushed pink. She had not been picked up this way since her dear late husband was alive. And never with so little effort. This person may appear to be a small female elf, but she was undoubtedly a strong one._

She'd later learnt that Ellysa had been her name. Informing her of the troubles of templars and mages in the area and how they were camped at the crossroads since the mages running the castle would not allow in non-mages. So many refugees were left defenceless in the cold. She still frowned when she thought of it, but her mind was quickly brought back to the present when arms tugged at her once more.

"The other kids want to know if you'll read us a bedtime story again tonight?" The little girl grinned enthusiastically. The woman's head then turned slightly, following the young boy's gaze which travelled past her hip. There, standing behind one of the carts seemed to be a dozen children, eyeing her carefully. They were still hesitant around her. Her pointed ears were very much visible to the world. And their parent's words probably hung in their minds. Although when one is in danger and requires help, they have little to say about one's race, rather their intention. So, when she played with the children and read them stories at night, few had anything to say about the matter. Especially when the younglings faces would light up in joy and giggling could be heard through the small refuge.

She smiled gently to the children and waved, most of whom waved back excitedly despite their shyness. She then turned to the two little ones latched to her and gently pried them off, careful not to spill the basket of herbs in doing so.

"I have to deliver these herbs to your mother, and then after that, I must see if there is anything else to do. If there is not, I will happily read you a story. Otherwise, I'm sure your mother would be more than happy to take my place tonight." Pouts quickly formed on their faces as they whined and dropped their shoulders dramatically. It merely caused her to grin more—silly little things.

"But you're better at it! Your elf-y stories are funny, and you make funny voices." She hums at the comment and doesn't take it to heart. They are very 'elf-y' stories, after all. What else does she know?

"We shall see, now run along, or I will never finish my duties in time." The two huffed but grinned good-naturedly before running off to the other children and informing them of the compromise. She almost laughed as the others pouted as well. She missed children. They were so expressive. Such blank slates of any prejudice. She wished more would grow up that way. Alas, she continued her journey to the healer's hut. Ellysa's white hair shone in the corner as she opened the door wide, guiding the basket through to a place on the table. However, she quickly realised the woman was not alone.

"Please, if you have any to spare, it would be much appreciated." The baron tone of the man seemed to fill the room. One clearly accustomed to giving orders. Although there was no malice behind it, just pure hope.

"I am sorry, Ser. But if I was to give out any more blankets, there would be none for the injured. I only have a couple left, and we have recruits coming in just beyond the crossroads already." Ellysa sighed and turned to the man. His face seemed to drop, but he nodded.

"I can't believe it's come to not even being able to offer people bloody blankets in this cold." Ellysa nodded in agreement before they both realised Aravae was standing just beyond them.

"Oh! Dear. You're back. I trust you retrieved the herbs?" The healer smiled as the other nodded and stepped aside to reveal the large basket of herbs. The other jumped and clapped in delight.

 _“_ Wonderful! Oh, you are a treasure, dear. I wouldn't have been able to get nearly as much, I hope you did not run into any trouble out there." The elf merely shook her head and smiled.

"Nothing I cannot manage. Although what is this a hear about blankets. Is there no more from the caravans?" Eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Two had come through just this morning. Surely, they had something. The man then turned to her with a tiresome frown.

"Unfortunately, not. Apparently, they're being ambushed by the mages. Naturally, the merchants are willing to give them anything they want if it means arriving here at all." A loud sigh left his lips. She could see the lines and dark circles on his face. She felt terrible for the man.

"Is there any other way of retrieving blankets, maybe I could be of help?"

"The only way I know of is to get the blankets from the caravans back from the mages. Maker knows Redcliffe isn't going to give us anything." She bites her lip gently and ponders her options. She could go. It's not like she is by any means harmless. She would have to be careful naturally, but people would freeze if they did not have any protection. Significantly as the nights were only growing colder by the day.

"I can go look for some of these supplies." At her suggestion, two heads immediately snapped to her, eyes filled with worry.

"That’s preposterous, Aravae! It’s far too dangerous!” Ellysa half-shouted at the elf, worry clearly filling her.

“I could not ask that of you, Miss. I have no other soldier to send out. I would not ask that of anyone else.” The man bowed his head, shaking it regretfully. The rogue rolled her eyes gently but smiled.

“That is fine. Too many people travelling together would only cause suspicion and draw attention. If I am alone, I can go check and leave any situation much quicker. I am not hopeless, you of all people should know that Elyssa.” The healer frowned, her hands wringing anxiously in front of her but she sighed in defeat.

“Yes, I know. If anyone could weave in and out of those templar and mage wars, it would be you. Just. Please. Be careful.” The elf simply smiled and nodded. Turning to the man who suddenly seemed very confused.

“I am a trained hunter, Ser. I am more than able to fend for myself. If it is too risky, I will return, but I would at least like to try and give these people some comfort.” An easy smile filled her lips, and her calm attitude seemed to calm him as well as he nodded and gestured for her to follow him out of the room.

“One moment, I will need to grab some supplies.” He nodded in understanding and stood by the door patiently. The woman then turned and grabbed her pack that sat beside the small wooden table. In it already held a small tent, health poultices, tiny hidden lyrium vials and water skins. She then grabbed a couple of food rations from the small trunk, used for the wounded before turning and opening another chest that hid her bow and quiver. She reached beyond them and grabbed a sleek pair of daggers hilted in worn leather pouches. She strapped them to her thighs with ease before clipping chains connected to the dagger’s hilts to her belt. She then grabbed her quiver and buckled it to her back tightly so it would not jolt when she walked before finally twirling her bow around her shoulders with practised ease. Despite how much she enjoyed simply helping the refugees, she always felt more complete with her weapons attached to her. Far too many times, she had been caught without them. Far too many scars because of it. Turning to her friend, she smiled and took her hands, stopping the healer from picking at them in nervousness.

“I will be fine, my friend. You need not worry. The children have asked me to read them a bedtime story, I would ask you to take my place if only to distract you from my absence now.” The brown-eyed woman then laughed softly and took the elf into her arms, squeezing her tightly.

“Of course I will, now you’d better come back. I’m not sure what I would tell those kids if you didn’t.” Aravae hummed in amusement, knowing there was truth behind the teasing tone but then turned to the man and gestured for him to lead the way. And then off she went. Following the middle-aged man as he began to show her the most likely places to find said equipment and where soldiers’ camps were if she were to need anything on the way. He’d thanked her profusely before she was off into the wild of the Hinterlands, her gaze roaming over the lands the further she walked and her ears sharpening the further she was from the refuge. Breathing in the fresh air of the wild, she grinned and began a brisk pace to her first target. She loved helping people. It was her purpose. But oh how she missed the hunt, the grass beneath her leather-bound foot wraps, the sound of animals huffing and cooing in the distance. Even the pull of the veil as magic was tampered with and swords ringing with action was something she quietly missed in some moments. She returned to the fight. Just as she always did. Just as her purpose pulled her.


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was not possible, and yet here she stood before him.

Everything was a mess. The land, the people and now the sky too. All of which was caused by him in some way or another. The guilt of it all weighed on him no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Luckily, he was more than accustomed to pushing it aside. He would fix it. He always fixed it. And now, he had a way to fix it, indirectly at the very least. Crystal blue eyes lingered on the figure walking in front of them. He still had few thoughts on the Dalish elf, other than his preconceived notions. Just as the Dalish were, this one was fierce in her temperament. Refusing the title of Herald, proclaiming her gods to be the only true ones. The frown that cast itself on his lips every time he heard that phrase was instant and uncontrollable. Oh, how he had failed miserably. He'd locked them away for all their misdeeds, only for them to continue to be revered by thoughtless children. Naturally, one of these children had stumbled upon power from her so-called gods and was proclaimed a herald to another. Irony did not begin to describe the situation. Although, the bitter irony is how he would tell most of his failures. Shaking his head gently, he ceased those thoughts. His self-pity would not help now. Guidance was required. And she had not been entirely hostile to it, thankfully. Suddenly, he lurched forward slightly as his foot caught in a particularly deep hole in the road. He almost rolled his eyes as he heard Varric chuckle from over his shoulder. Clearly, he'd been far too deep in thought.

They'd been travelling for a week now, he would have thought that fatigue would hit the party eventually. Instead, it seemed the closer they became to the Hinterlands, the more anxious everyone was to arrive. They had passed many travellers, even some spares caravans and merchants. All of which warned them of travelling through the Hinterlands.

"Those damn mages have gone insane. Attacking anything that comes close. Stealing from the caravans and threatening passer-byers."

"I don't see the templars doing any better."

It had been a travelling merchant couple. The two humans had been more the forthcoming with information about the area. Seemingly wanting to vent their frustrations to any willing ear.

"Bloody bastards wouldn't even let us go to the refugees. Not that we'd have much to give them after the demanded all the stock we had. Poor sods." The man lamented, shaking his head in distaste. It seemed the war between the feuding sides had found a threshold here more so than anywhere else in Thedas. Although he rightfully understood the mages' unrest, years of pent-up aggression and imprisonment were bound to end in violence. He could not help but feel annoyance at the pitiful attempts at rebellion. If this could even be called such. They were willing to kill and inconvenience anyone in their way. It was pitiful. And so very much what he expected of those seeking power.

"Perhaps, while we speak with this revered mother, it would also do to help the refugees. We were asked to seek agents and build a name for the Inquisition, as it were." Solas turned to the shorter elf, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern for what they would find. Shemlen or not, these people did not sound like they would survive the winter in their current conditions, and they had not even arrived to evaluate the place yet.

"I agree with Solas. We cannot turn our backs on the faithful. We must do something about these apostates." The seekers' voice was determined. A lifetime of service to control mages was not something that was easily untaught.

"I don't think it's just the mages that are the issue here, Seeker. Sounds like they have a few things going on. We should take a look, but I doubt it will be so black and white once we get there." Although Cassandras' initial introduction of Varric had been that of a self-centred liar, Solas often found him rather frank with his thoughts. Of course, he often spun fantastical stories along with his opinions. Still, he was often truthful and assured in his ideals. It was refreshing at times. Especially when it concerned anything to do with the Chantry, Templars or Apostates. Varric seemed to have a cold spot for the order and was not against reminding Cassandra of their faults, so it didn't always feel like Solas was the one defending mages. However, he held little will to defend the magic users in this particular area by the current news. To Ellana's credit, she seemed to think on the matter, thanking the travellers before again making her way to the crossroads.

Before long they arrived at the camp, the Commander had informed them of. Everyone in the party seemed thankful to be able to rest for a moment while the Herald was pulled away to receive word from scout Harding. Cassandra seemed to be speaking to another scout. At the same time, Varric rested haphazardly on a log, beginning to check over his crossbow. Bianca, he had called it. The elven man found himself curious about the origins of its tale but knew better than to speak of it. What the man didn't willingly divulge in his endless speaking, he seemed to hold under lock and key in his mind. If anyone respected the need for secrets, it was Solas. He hummed to himself gently. Walking to the edge of the camp which happened to be on the edge of a mountain. Below he could already hear the tell-tale signs of fighting. Swords clashing as the veil pulled tight, being manipulated poorly and thoughtlessly. It seems the travellers had not been exaggerating. He worried about what that meant for the refugees. He looked about and, in the distance, he could vaguely recognise tents against the glare of the morning sun. He hoped the soldiers had been helping fend for the civilians. Lost in his thoughts once again, he hadn't heard the footsteps leading up to him. It was only when he felt a hand on his shoulder did his head turn sharply while he stepped away from reach in reflex.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to ask if you were okay to continue travelling. Harding said the peoples camp is not too far from here, but there will be confrontation on the way." Solas looked back into the heralds deep blue eyes. Mythal's green _vallaslin_ only seemed to mock him as it framed her eyes. He shook his head, to erase his thoughts and answer her question.

"No need to be sorry. I apologise, I was merely trying to see the human camp. I would like to continue if the others are willing." His eyes travelled, passed her and wondered over the other two members. They seemed to be bickering amongst themselves, the dwarf had his usually easy-going grin. Simultaneously, the seekers' arms were crossed tightly while looking like she wanted to punch him. It took effort not to laugh at the two of them. Apparently, Ellana had thought so too as a chuckle sounded from his side. He settled on a small smirk as he gestured her towards them and followed quickly behind. He needed a task to focus on. His mind was wandering too much, and as they continued down the dirt roads, the sounds of fighting grew louder until they could see bolts of ice flurrying through the air towards raised shields, embellished by maroon swords. And soon he was too busy focusing on the veil to think of anything else.

* * *

After what seemed like hours, they stumbled into a small clearing of tents and wooden huts. A mix of soldiers, healers, sisters and general folk appeared to fill the area. There was far more than he had expected. And their conditions far worse. Barely any people other than the workers wore shoes, which he had understood was uncommon with humans. They could not regulate heat or cold as well as elves after so many centuries of covering themselves. They wore rags, and many rushed around trying to give out tiny portions of food while others laid in cots, bare to the winter chill in the air. It was not unforgivable yet, but he would assume the nights were far less forgiving. He frowned. As did his current companions.

"We will help them. But first I must speak with the Revered Mother, Leliana spoke of. If you could, look for anyone in charge and find out ways we could help out. I'll meet you back here afterwards." And with that, the group split. His eyes roamed over the occupancy of the small village. It was sad to see. They were in need of help, and no one was even trying to do anything for them. He sighed as he began to wonder. He could feel the suspicious gaze of the shemlen on him; however, he was surprised when nothing was outwardly said or whispered. Even within Haven, he had endured the knife-ear comments, but these people merely turned their heads and continued on their way. Strange. Perhaps they understood how in dire need they were. To not refuse even a lowly elf's help. He made his way through the throws of people, speaking to a merchant parked on the road about who was in charge.

The man had mentioned that no one really was, but a select few were trying to organise everything. Corporal Vale, Recruit Whittle and the hunter were a few. He nodded his thanks and turned to walk up a slight slope. Whittle was the closest to him. He trudges slowly, his body weary after so many days travel, but he would endure. Once he could go weeks without rest. Taking energy from the ground beneath him to continue in his pursuits. Now, however. He was old. He snorted gently. He had always been old in today standards but never had he quite felt his age until these last few months. And his body was hardly the cause.

"You there. Elf. You with the Inquisition?" Piercing eyes turned to the source of the shout. He scanned the man before him, wrapped in armour and leather. His eyes narrowed slightly in retaliation. However, as they did, the other man's arms lifted in surrender.

"Sorry, yeah. I didn't mean to be so abrupt. It's just someone said there was an elf mage that walked in with some of the inquisition tropes, figured there wouldn't be too many of them walking around here." With that, Solas once again schooled his expression into one of neutrality.

"Indeed. How may I be of assistance…?" His words lingered in question.

"Whittle. Recruit Whittle. Some said the Inquisition was here to help, so I was wondering if you'd be able to help track someone down for me. She's been helping us for the last few months, but she went out to track down some blankets for the refugees, and that was some days ago now. Everyone's getting a bit worried. Kids won't stop bothering Ellysa, and she won't stop bothering me about it." The elf raised an eyebrow at the mans rambling, but let it slide. He was obviously anxious about this person's whereabouts. And if they were trying to gather materials, it would not hurt to also help in that endeavour.

"I will speak with them about this matter." Was all he muttered before the man suddenly lit up, causing Solas to freeze momentarily in confusion. Before he could question the man suddenly jogged away before reappearing with a small map. He held it out for Solas to take, which he did with slight unease.

"I’ve marked were the supples would most likely be. Same as I did with her map. I know you may not find her, but please. Even just trying would help a great deal. The kids have been anxious without her around.” The elf nodded and turned away, making his journey back to the street signs that they had agreed to met back at. He couldn’t see anyone else, so he leaned leisurely against the cobblestone fence and unravelled the map. It was the entire map of the Hinterlands that would undoubtedly come in useful the next few days. His gaze lingered on the bright red markings that littered over one half of the map. Five in total. Some seem quite far away, so it was no surprise it appeared to be taking this person some time to return. Mostly since these were not accurate points either. Merely educated guesses. Whoever they are must have been confident in their abilities if they were willing to wander so far from camp and into mage territory. Perhaps they would be a useful addition to the Inquisition since they needed agents. He’d learnt long ago that you could find the strongest allies amongst the weak. Those willing to fight, so others did not have to.

While he let his mind wander, eventually the others began to trickle back. Varric having spoken to the hunter about more meat, Cassandra had spoken to Corporal Vale and learnt of the horse master that lived nearby. Finally, Ellana returned with news from the Revered Mother. She was hoping they would travel to Val Royeaux in order to plead with the Chantry for support. Solas forced himself not to scoff at the idea. They were half the issue. If they wished to help, they would not have immediately shunned the Inquisition in the first place. But he held his tongue. It was not his place. He was no longer in charge.

“I spoke to Recruit Whittle, he sent someone to retrieve blankets from the rebel mages. However, they have not returned, and there is worry. It would be beneficial to obtain these materials either way. He also provided a map.” He offered the parchment to the younger woman who immediately unravelled the scroll and nodded in thought.

“We can start here then. The quicker we look, the more likely we will find them alive. I’m sure we will run into ram on the way as well. Do you know what he looks like?” Solas frowned and shook his head. He hadn’t bothered to ask in the recruit’s haste. How foolish of him.

“E-Excuse me, Miss?” A shy but warm voice asked from behind them. The group turned towards a lady. Her bright white hair bound tightly in a bun on top of her head while lines of age marked her unsure expression. She seemed to tug a brown wrap around her shoulders tighter in security.

“Did I hear you were looking for the hunter who went searching for blankets?” The Herald nodded her head.

“Yes, we were asked to try and locate them. Do you know them?” If so, they were fortunate. The woman nodded with a smile and ushered them towards a small wooden hut. They all followed her inside. Although slightly cramped, it fits them all as the woman began to bustle around some chests, quickly grabbing some things before placing them on a table and retrieving others.

“You are looking for a woman called Aravae.” Solas froze in his spot behind the crowd. Flashes of dark brown hair filled his mind, cascading like silk around a pale heart-shaped face. Glistering green eyes shone with laugher as a hand clasped her mouth to keep from laughing, although her gaze did nothing to hide her mirth. And suddenly it was gone. And the medicinal smell of herbs and rotting wood once again filled his senses. He blinked slowly as he reminded himself who he was standing with. It had been aeons since he had last heard that name. Part of him was glad for the positive memory; however, a much larger part was angry that another dared to use her name. To steal a name and place it upon some quick youngling. He breathed in slowly, trying to force the anger down. Now was not the time. He had enough time to grieve. Yet it never felt enough. He had endured, but he had never entirely relinquished the sadness.

“She is an elf as you would imagine, however, she has no marks on her face. She is quite large for an elf too, about an average man’s height. She has brown hair, but you’ll most likely recognise her from her armour. It is both chainmail and dark leather. Although a rather odd cut. Certainly not something you see around here often. She also wears a deep navy scarf and hood. It would be hard to miss her if you are looking. Although if you are searching, but careful to not startle her and be quick to inform her Ellysa sent you. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt accidentally.” Ellysa. This was the woman that Whittle had mentioned in his ramblings. So, she was the one worried about this elf woman. A city elf by the sounds of it. Although one that could apparently fight, which was not common. There were many contradictions in the woman statement, but he did not comment. It would best be left for if they even found the woman.

“Please, if you do find her, would you give her these?” The lady hands out three small rolls that seemed to be rations.

“She did not take much to eat, and I can imagine she would be running low if she is not able to hunt. If you do not, feel free to have them yourselves if you are in need.” With that, Ellana accepted the rations and thanked the woman for her help before turning back to the party, motioning to leave the hut.

“So. More elves, huh? Maybe you could try to be nice to this one right away. Because by the sounds of it, she may just attack if you’re not.” Varric joked, clearly referring to the acidic conversation he and the Herald had held when he asked her Dalish heritage. He sighed and nodded in understanding.

“It would be good to find this person nonetheless.” With a nod of agreement from the blonde-haired elf, the four set forth towards the first cache, suddenly much more eager to find this new elf.

* * *

They had been travelling for two days. And there was no sign of their mysterious target. They had found supplies and correctly marked them on their map and fought through mages and templars who were scattered over the countryside. Yet no sign of anyone else. They were beginning to wonder if maybe the fighting had caught up to her and she’d perished, or simply left entirely for her own safety. He hoped not. He knew it was foolish of him. Knew it was impossible, and he was setting himself up for failure as a small flame of desire settled in his heart. Aravae. He hadn’t heard it in lifetimes. Especially not this one. What if it was? He shook his head and shoved his tent roughly into his backpack. This was foolish. He was foolish. He had watched her die with his own two eyes. Powerless to stop it. How many demons had picked up on this one failure as he walked the fade? Now it was apparently destined to haunt him in the waking world as well.

He continued to try and banish the thoughts as they travelled. Collecting meat, fighting rebels and the occasional odd mercenary. It did wonders to keep the mind busy. However, as they travelled to another possible supply sight, Ellana cried out as the mark on her hand flared to life. She grunted as she clutched it to herself, Solas immediately running to her side to check on it. Despite, however, he felt about the Dalish or this young woman, he was immeasurably guilty about the pain his mark caused upon her. It was never meant for her. Was never meant for a mortal. Especially one so cut off from the fade as she. He cradled the mark in her hand and could not see any active bleeding or obscurities. That meant there was a rift nearby.

“Stand prepared, there is a rift nearby. That means demons.” He stood and withdrew his staff as Ellana rose to stand. Her other hand reaching for her own staff that was strapped to her back. She scanned the area and beyond the next slight hill, behind some rock, vibrant green winked at her. The very same that glowed from her hand. She moved towards it, the others following quickly, all on guard as they drew closer to the split in the veil. The sounds of terror demons could be heard, a sickening sound of bones grinding while an ear-piercing wail sounded in the still air. There was nothing else. No sound of the wind. No running of water. No animals. It sent chills down his spine. All of it was unnatural. It was no supposed to be. And just as they moved closer to the sound of screeching, it halted as well. Each one of them froze in fear before the ground beneath them began to bubble.

“Move!” Varric’s voice boomed at the ground as he jumped away, his crossbow aimed at the ready. Before long, the long limbs of the terror demon could be seen as it clawed its way from the ground and began to slash at anything it could find. It had apparently chosen Cassandra. The armoured woman held up her shield as it swiped at her, screeching once more. Before her word cut through the middle of it, while Varric fired a bolt through his skull, a sickening crunch could be heard before it fell to the ground. However, there was no time to cheer as more began to pour from the gap. Angered wraiths shot at them from a distance while they were forced to deal with two more terror demons attacking them. Cassandra tried to fight off one while the others tried to keep the second one back; however, the wraiths would not be ignored as the shot from a distance. Solas began to fire shards of ice back at them, hoping to ease some of the onslaughts. It was bigger than the others they had faced, save the pride demon at the breach itself. But they had far more reinforcements then. Suddenly Aravae cried out as Cassandras demon had turned from her and instead lashed out at the unaware mage. She knelt to the ground as she shot fireball after fireball at the demon to keep it away from her. Causing it to screech loudly in pain while Varric and Cassandra tried to down the other one. Solas cast another barrier around them all before placing a wall of ice in front of Ellana to keep her from the demon before firing at it, forcing it back further. However, holding a barrier over four people that were continually being shot at was more than exhausting as sweat began to coat his brow in concentration.

Just as his barriers fell, they heard a bow fire. An arrow soared from behind them all and made contact with one of the wraiths, instantly downing it. Followed by another. And then another. And soon the pesky spirits and dissipated into the veil. During that, Cassandra and Varric had managed to take down their demon and then turned to the final one. Solas placed a barrier around himself and Ellana as Cassandra ran at the demon, pulling her shield tightly in her arm and bashing into the disgusting beast. An arrow and a bolt flew through the air simultaneously. One directly through its chest and the other embedded between the eyes. It went down quickly after that.

Solas turned his attention to Ellana, who was wheezing and clutching her side but making to get up. He huffed but understood and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, helping her stand as she lifted her hand to the rift. The green energy latching towards the rift before it began to shake and eventually exploded with a loud blast. At once, Solas lowered her to the ground again and began to check her for wounds as he healed the gash on her side. He felt Cassandra kneel beside her as well, speaking to her calmingly as he worked.

“I’m fine. You two don’t need to act like mother hens. It’s just a small gash. We’ve faced worse.” Both he and Cassandra huffed at her indifference to her health. It was a running theme, apparently. Eventually, she managed to push them away after Solas healed the wound, unable to find any others as they all stood and looked around for Varric who’d been missing from the scene. Suddenly each of them remembered the added shots in the fight as their gazes fell upon Varric who was speaking to a womanly figure clad in a navy hood.

“Well. I don’t know if we managed to find her or she found us, but I believe this is our mysterious elf.” Varric smirked as he turned to his party. Solas’ gaze turned to the woman. She was tall for an elf that was sure. And her armour was not something of this age. The materials and metal were, naturally. But the make was far more reminiscent of female rogues from Arlathan. Something perhaps Andruil would have worn if she did not love gold so much. His mind began swimming as he took in the armour, his previous thoughts now forcing themselves from the cage he’d placed them in, refusing to be ignored as his gaze finally fell on her face that was shadowed by her hood. He could feel the loud thud of his pulse within his chest, almost painfully, and the rush of blood through his ears was more than distracting. And it all froze as she lowered her hood. His breath caught between his lips, while the grip on his staff caused his knuckles to turn white, he could feel splinters press into his hand as the wood began to ache against his grip.

Her brunette hair reflected the sun as naturally as it always had, falling in curtains around her pointed ears and face as she smiled at them easily. Genuinely. Her hand lifted in a small wave towards the group.

“Hello, I’m Aravae. I’m glad to see you are unharmed.” The sound of her voice suddenly awakened his body once more. The rush of his blood started once again as did his heartbeat. He managed to remember how to breathe before his lungs blew out, and slowly released the breath he was holding, wishing against all odds, that no one had noticed his reaction as Ellana walked up to the woman. Although the smaller elf walked to her, Aravae looked up and scanned each of them. Her eyes narrowing slightly at the seeker symbol on Cassandra's shield before it then hit him. He felt his breath hitch once again. Emerald green.

As vibrant as they always were. It was her. And Solas felt his entire body ache at the notion. It was not possible, and yet here she stood. Her eyes lingering on him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed slightly before turning away. There was no recognition in her eyes. She did not remember him. He felt as if he had been thrown into a freezing lake. His body refused to move until he thought of each individual movement, forcing him to step closer. Left leg. Right leg. Left leg. Right leg. He cleared his throat gently, trying to force down the cotton that seemed to catch there. He listened as the others introduced themselves, informing her of all that had been happening while she was away and who they were. How Ellana closed the rift with her mark when Aravae asked her about it in confusion.

“And this is Solas. Don’t get offended by his quiet. He’s usually lost in his own head most of the time.” Ellana smirked slightly as she gestured to him. But he could barely pay attention. Once again, those green eyes landed on him. His heart pounded as her eyebrows once again drew closer, her head tilting ever so slightly, and then they widened, only for a moment. And part of him caved. He felt unbridled glee fill him as it had not done in centuries. He smiled against his best judgement and nodded to her.

“I am glad to see you are alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually have a reference picture of Aravae's armour if anyone is actually interested in seeing it.  
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed it! They met!
> 
> Now how will Solas come to terms with it? And how does Aravae feel about seeing him?


	3. Hidden Intention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aravae meets the party. Two hopeless elves wonder if the other remembers before they can finally speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm super lazy, so italic words will be spoken in ancient elven. I'll naturally add those I remember off the top of my head or bother to research but It takes far too long to learn how to speak a fictional language. Props to any authors who do so for their works. You're amazing.
> 
> Also, I hope you're all ready for lots of Arlathan time Solas because there is going to be a lot of flashbacks and references to it... A lot. Most of this story is talking about the past because it's about Solas. And Aravae. Ancient Elves are cool. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the comment Mouse12 and Tiresia. You have no idea how lovely it is to be alerted to reviews. I've already looked back on them multiple times today as an inspiration to write. Enjoy!

She forced herself to stand still. Her feet rooted to the ground as she took in the sight before her. Least she runs and tackles him into a fierce embrace. The loud thud of her heartbeat felt miles away in her ears, and yet she could feel it pressing into her ribcage almost violently. Her fingers tingled, and she couldn’t stop them from twitching. Her gaze travelled over the taller man's face, taking in the flat elongated ears, connecting to a sharp jawline with a small cleft in his chin. His skin was pale. Far more so than she had ever seen it before, enough so that she could visibly see the freckles that dotted his cheeks lightly. An obvious giveaway to how much time he had once spent in the sun despite his pale disposition. Sharp teeth bit into her lower lip from within her mouth. Hard enough so taste the metallic of her blood. Just enough to remind her she was not asleep. This was not the Fade. Not that she didn’t already know that. The lack of auburn hair was an indicator. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined him without it. She smiled gently, forcing down a laugh. She hadn’t even recognised him at first without it. How different he looked, and yet as she studied him, he was so much the same. Those eyes. Those eyes always gave him away. But they were not full of their usual mischievousness she had grown familiar to. They were blank. Despite the small smile that curled on his thin lips, it did not reach his eyes. She tilted her head once more in confusion but chose to nod at his words.

“Thank you.” The exchange had lasted all of ten seconds; however, it felt so much longer to her. Did he recognise her? Of course, he did. His words were carefully chosen. Then why was he not happy to see her? Maybe he was shocked. It was understandable. The last he had seen her, Andruil had been standing over her with a sneer. Licking the blood from her blade as it flowed from the gash in Aravae’s ribs. Pain. It had been unbelievably painful. Something she had not experienced much of before that time. The scar ached as she thought back to that moment.

_She was going to die. Her head swum with unanswered questions and memories she had lived. She wondered how he would take this. Terribly, as he always would. He did not do well with grief. And before her foggy mind pulled her completely beneath its waters, she heard a growl. Both human and inhuman. Her eyes struggled to open one last time as she looked at him. His gaze already on her, his grief shone as bright as his anger. Then his eyes turned to the woman standing over her, and all of the sadness fled. Consumed with hatred and anger. They began to glow along with his hands as he spat vulgarities at his brethren. She could feel the pull of power as he knocked Andruil from atop her. And before she could take in anything else, she let her tired mind rest. The pain was simply too much._

Her head ached from the memories, as did her body. Surprisingly, being hunted by an Evanuris had been incredibly painful and taxing. She also stood no chance. The fact she was alive at all was astounding. So, she could not blame him for being confused. Still, it had been so long. What if his unhappiness was much more straightforward? What if he just wasn’t happy to see her. The ache in her heart grew torturous. But her mind would not relinquish the thought. They had been close once, but it had been aeons ago, in a different world. She looked back at him, and his gaze had shifted to the other elven woman. She was much shorter than them. Dalish by the _vallaslin_ on her face. Poor thing. She wouldn’t even understand what it meant. Just as the others did not. The young girl was now facing her, Aravae placed on her best smile and focused on her instead. These thoughts and feelings could be assessed another time. Preferably when they are not around others.

“Well, it’s good to know you’re not hopeless out here, flat ear. Did you manage to find the supplies?” The bright woman grinned and placed her staff back in its holdings. Aravae forced herself not to react to the term. She had learnt it quite some time ago. She was called knife ear by the shemlen, and then flat ear by the Dalish. She had surmised it to be a derogatory term; however, some did not seem to think that way. It was merely a term for a group of people used for so long it was second nature. She wondered how this young Dalish thought of it. The smile on her face and easy-going nature suggested it was not malicious, but she wasn’t entirely sure. She would see.

“Yes, I have scouted them all out. I was heading back home when I spied mercenaries in the abandoned fortress towards the south. I was going to alert the soldiers at camp to keep an eye on them.” The archers swung her bow back over her shoulder, eyeing the group. Two mages, a warrior and an archer. A tactical choice. One designed for fighting.

“I apologise, but may I ask what you are doing here in the Hinterlands? No one has bothered to help the people here since the war began. You are obviously fighters, who has sent you?” Caution was a natural reaction to people who could fight. Too often had she been caught off guard being friendly to those who appeared helpful but had much darker intentions. They had been tasked to look for her and had bothered to do so, which was a good sign. However, no matter how much she had trained herself to remain vigilant around others, knowing Solas stood with them discouraged any suspicion of them.

“We are apart of the Inquisition. Tasked to closing the breach in the sky. We have come to help those in need and gather support.” It was the warriors turn to speak. Cassandra, she had called herself. A hardened woman by her demeanour and look. Straight to the point. Aravae decided that she liked that attribute.

“Well, you definitely have your work cut out for you. And more so than you may know. If you truly wish to help these people, I offer myself. I have travelled through here for the last season and know the land well enough. The best way you could help out the townsfolk would be to remove the templars and mages head camps. However, as I mentioned, there have also been mercenaries hired by someone around here recently. I do not have much information other than where I assume their captain is hiding.” She hoped they truly wished to help. And not just for themselves. She understood they had come to gather allies, but the best way to obtain them was to first gain their trust and respect. Respect drew the best supporters. Loyal ones. She watched as the blonde-haired elf hummed to herself momentarily. Her fingers tapping against her leg in thought. Before she could say anything, Cassandra spoke.

“I am unsure if we have the time to deal with all the issues these people face, Herald. We came to speak with Mother Giselle and help, but this war is beyond just us. Besides, I’m sure if we clear out the rifts, Redcliffe would be more than accommodating to these people.” Dark eyebrows bunches in confusion. Herald? Her gaze drew back to the younger woman. So, this one was more than just a leader of a team. She was important. She’d assume due to the mark on her hand that sealed the rifts.

“The mages will not allow anyone who is not a mage within the walls. Rifts or not. These people were kicked from their homes and forced into the middle of a war they hold no part in. Forgive me, but if you do not wish to help them, who is it you are helping with this Inquisition?” Emerald eyes narrowed slightly. She had dealt with too many people wishing help for their own selfish wishes. She was hoping this would be different, but that seemed to be a dying thought. Her words seemed to bristle the warrior but before she could retort the Herald spoke up.

“You are right. The least we can do is help these people. However, I would like to hear more about the Castle abandoning its people. And if you are already aware of where the rebels are hiding, then there is no time to waste searching. I would be honoured to have your support, Aravae.” Her eyebrows raised in slight surprise, but she nodded and smiled none-the-less. Perhaps she had been wrong.

“Wonderful, I can show you the spots on the map. It would be best to deal with them quickly before word spreads of your arrival. It should only take a couple days to seek them all out.” Aravae smiled as she stepped closer, handing the young elf her own map with multiple-coloured scribbles over the pages. Her cheeks tinged pink.

“I apologise for the mess; I tend to make notes of many things. If you need anything clarified, please do not hesitate to ask.” The others looked over the map in curiosity. Cassandra only huffed, and Varric chuckled.

“Looks like when I edit a book. A real nit-picker.” Her eyes widened slightly at the comment. A writer and a rogue. Interesting. She smiled and huffed good-naturedly.

“Well, by the looks of it we have quite the travelling to do. I’d like to be able to take out the templars and mages today if possible. Then tonight we can recoup and sort out what these mercenaries want. Hopefully, after that, we’ll be in good enough shape to find Master Dennett and speak with him.” The group nodded at Ellana’s words and began their journey. Aravae found herself walking behind Cassandra and in step with Varric. So, she began to ask his questions about his writing, books and ideas. To which Cassandra grunted when he laughed and readily told her stories to pass the time. She found it calming. Calm was what she needed when she knew who was walking behind her. She did not know what to make of the situation. She felt like a young, naïve elf again, confused at the world and people around her. Now the mentor she had to mauver her way through life back then, was the singular cause of her distress.

\--------

\--------

He was lost.

He didn’t know what to do with this newfound information. There were so many factors to consider. How was she here? How did she survive? Why was she here of all places? Had she been awake the whole time? Impossible, he knew. So, when had she awaken? Who had placed her under uthenera? Had she been safe since she had awakened? His gaze never really left her form. Whether he was blatantly staring, which he tried desperately not to do. Yet, failed miserably at. Or catching glances of her discreetly. She had barely changed. Other than the armour. She looked almost the same. Her face was untouched with age, pale and smooth as he remembered it. How he wished to do nothing but scoop her into his arms and hold her as she flushed and giggled trying to escape as his younger self had. However, she seemed entirely too distant. Too far from his reach. She had barely glanced at him since their first introduction. She was keeping her distance. Speaking animatedly with Varric about his stories and asking questions every second she could. Did she blame him? Blame him for what had happened to her? For leaving her behind? For not being there in time? He would not blame her if she did. It had been his fault. He had been careless and arrogant. And it had gotten her killed. Or so he had thought. His hand absentmindedly clutched at the jawbone that hung from his neck.

“What are your thoughts, Solas?” He almost jumped in surprise as he heard the low whisper of the Herald beside him suddenly. He had forgotten she was walking with him almost immediately. His mind absently wishing her to be someone else. His eyebrows furrowed slightly. Had he been too obvious?

“Why?” He had not meant for it to come out so hostile; however, he was worried about what would happen if they were found to know each other. What story could they spin that sounded believable enough? Perhaps they had simply crossed paths during his wondering of Thedas. It was simple and would not require much remembering or detail.

“I merely wanted to know your thoughts on her. I respect your opinion, Solas.” There it was again. He let his eyes linger on the elf walking beside him, her eyes just as boldly searching his. There was respect and the glint of warmth behind her gaze. Her voice was curious, but her gaze spoke otherwise.

“Our new companion is a mystery. I thought the woman who worried for her to be contradictory in her description, however, seems she was correct. I had not expected to find a city elf out here, and one so well versed in archery.” His spoke evenly. Choosing his words carefully as he told of the one thing his mind had not drifted from since meeting her.

“Yeah, I was surprised a flat ear survived so long out here. I’m going to test her skill over the next few days and see if she would be a good help for the Inquisition.” He stilled momentarily. Flat ear. He hated that term almost as much as knife ear. To think, his own kind had grown so accustomed to degrading their own race because of their situation. Especially the Dalish of all people. He wondered how many times she had thought of him the same way in the privacy of her own thoughts before learning he had never been in the alienages. How would she feel knowing that she had insulted the very people her entire culture looked up to.

“That would be wise. From her previous actions, I think it would be beneficial to the Inquisition.” He didn’t know how else to urge the young elf into accepting the new addition. He could hardly tell her he wanted her to stay for himself. That would cause… unrest. To put it lightly. However, he did not have much longer to maul over the conversation as Aravae began to slow, her head lifting as she scanned the area. He watched as her ears twitched noticeably. His heart clenched. No, she had not changed at all.

“We are close to the templars. They have barricades at the front of their camp. Last time I saw them, they had archers on top and a few frontmen on the ground. Usually, one heavily armoured captain as well.” The group nodded and turned to Ellana, who seemed to be thinking before nodding to herself.

“Alright, Varric and Aravae can take out the archers from a distance first, that way we don’t have to worry about being attacked from high and Cassandra can charge first. Focus on the leader while Solas and I keep up a barrier and help take out the other footmen. Then we hit the leader hard and fast. Don’t give them time to coordinate.” And with that, they all took their positions. The dwarf gestured for Aravae to step up onto a rock first with a swift bow to which she giggled slightly causing a stir in Solas’ stomach. He shook his head. Now was not the time. Tonight. Tonight, he could speak with her.

\----

\----

They had all set up their tent rather quickly and quietly. There was no real banter or chattering as they all moved with practised steps to lay out their bedrolls and slump into exhausted heaps. They had all known the day would be taxing, they wished to remove two sets of rebel camps that had been fighting for months on end in one day. It was not going to be easy. But the tired muscles and hungry bellies were much more aggressive than they had thought. Aravae watched as Solas lit a pile of sticks with the wave of his hand. Ellana handing out portions of food as everyone made their way to sit by the warmth. It was just passed sunset, and the cold was beginning to seep into their clothes. It would be best to sleep early, she doubted tomorrow would be any less forgiving.

“Here. Your friend… Elyssa, I believe her name was, asked us to give these to you if we found you.” Dark eyes turned to the voice, taking in the cotton clothing that covered, she was assuming, food. She smiled gently and nodded her thanks to the elf before unwrapping it to find dried meats and nuts. Elyssa was always complaining she never fed herself enough. The truth was, she simply didn’t need it. She had survived on much less in the past. But she was grateful none-the-less and began to eat with renewed vigour. Even if she could last without, she realised she’d much rather not.

It was not long before the camp said their goodnights and moved to their respective tents. Cassandra and Ellana sharing one while Varric moved to the other. She assumed Solas must share it as well. However, the man did not stand and instead rolled out his bed beside the fire, his gaze pointedly not lingering on her as it had done throughout the day. She had caught him on various occasions, his eyebrows were drawn in thought or worry as she narrowly missed attacks. She hummed gently to herself. He still hadn’t spoken to her, but it was better than nothing.

“On nydha.” With that, she swiftly stood and walked to her own tent. Allowing him time to think. She knew that’s what he was doing. He was assessing the situation and trying to figure it out before he did anything. Always the tactician. She just hoped he would come to a conclusion soon. She sighed as she began to remove her weapons and place them beside her bed. Close enough to reach if required. She then removed her armour until she wore nothing but the thin linin of her under armour. The cold air quickly spread through the light fabric and into her bones, she shuddered gently as she bent down and lifted her roll. Slowly she traced a heating glyph, pressing the tiniest amount of magic into the symbol to not alert the others, and then placed down her bedroll. She quickly shimmied her way into it and hummed as the heat curled over her like a warm hug, she smiled for a moment before closing her eyes, willing the darkness to take her. Her sore and tired body all but willing to follow.

\-----

She opened her eyes to feel the gentle breeze on her face. A smile tugged at her lip as she took in the small lake before her. She stood in a large field of flowers, a place she often found herself returning to in her dreams. It had long since been destroyed now, but oh how beautiful it once was. She knew it was not real, but she couldn’t help but feel the warmth of the sun beating down on her. Clad in only a light white dress. The silk was once commonly worn amongst the Elven. She sighed as she sat by the edge of the water. Her fingers grazing over the surface. She was not surprised she was here. It had been where they had first met. Where he had come to think and not be bothered by others. He had been in such turmoil. She had been drawn to the place and not understood why until he’d fallen asleep.

Her reminiscing was interrupted by a light snap of sticks from behind her. She turned slowly and tried to force the giddiness from herself as her eyes laid upon him. He wore the same ruined garbs that he did in the waking. His hand clasped behind him in a stiff posture as he faced her, his head turned towards the ground more so than her. He looked… almost afraid. She did not know what to say to him. To help ease his fears, or confront him about his feelings. To ask if he even still remembered her, despite him entering her dream.

 _“Is it really you, ma’falon?”_ His voice was hesitant, holding none of the usual self-assured she’d grown so familiar to from him. But she also couldn’t help the smile that broke onto her face as he looked up. His expression was sad yet unabashedly hopeful. His shoulders slacked at her smile. He stepped forward, his hands releasing their grip to come along before she could not help herself any longer. She stood quickly from the ground and ran towards him, her arms instantly wrapping around his neck as she hit his body, unafraid that they may have toppled over completely had he not been ready. She felt his long arms wrap around her waist and hold her tightly to him, his head curled into her neck as she felt hot wetness leak onto her skin. She smiled once more and lifted her hand to cup his cheek gently. Lifting his face to look at her. She searched his eyes to see all the fear had vanished, replaced with joy as he stared down at her, tears leaking slowly from the corners of his eyes. She couldn’t help but giggle. She could count on one hand the number of times she had seen him genuinely cry. And none of which had been from happiness. She grinned wider and nodded.

“ _Vin, ma’fen. It is me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> On nydha = Good night  
> Ma’falon = My friend  
> Vin, ma’fen. = Yes, my wolf.


	4. Finally reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two friends finally meet after aeons apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some good 'ld fluffiest for our poor sad elf.

She could not stop the giddiness that seemed to overtake her body. Her arms tightened around his neck as she clung to his frame, although his own was only drawn tighter. Neither of them being able to be close enough after so long apart. She watched as he looked down at her, his lips finally pulling into a small smirk. This. This is how she remembered him. One of his hands left her waist, while the other continued to hold her easily. He lifted it to gently graze his hand over her cheek, smearing wet over it. She had not even felt the tears drip from her eyes.

 _“Words do not begin to describe how I have missed you, da’enlea. To see you alive is more a blessing than any god could give.”_ His words were hoarse, seemingly stuck in his throat as he continued to caress her cheek. His eyes roaming over her face as if to take in every detail. She smiled and placed her forehead to his gently, her hands cupping his cheeks.

 _“I have wished for this moment for so very long, ma’fen. So many times, you have walked to me in this very place, and I have banished you back to lure someone else.”_ She spoke of desire. A demon that so relentlessly tormented her after so many years. Taking the shape of her Solas in attempts to lure her into commitment. But she was no fool. Oh, how she had wanted it to be real, wanted to feel him beneath her fingertips. But she knew it never would be. Until now. She closed her eyes and merely felt his presence around her. All-consuming in its ferocity. He may be dressed as a sheep, but he could not hide his power from her. Not here. She opened her eyes once more as she felt his chest shudder, a chuckle sounding around her ears.

 _“And what makes you so sure I am not to be banished?”_ His voice was clearly in jest as he grinned from above her. His eyes crinkling as he did so. It warmed her heart. Her smile grew playful as she released him slightly, his hold, however, only grew stronger. She ran her fingers over his bare scalp and hummed gently. His eyes closed as he felt her magic flow over him, it was soothing yet sharp. It was not painful, but you could feel the edge of it, ready to harm as much as it would help. He grinned once more as he felt the familiar pressure upon his head. Hair tickled the back of his neck in a way he’d never noticed before. She smiled as she looked at him, thick auburn locks were pulled tightly back together, laced only with a small cuff of gold to keep them from falling, while the sides of his head were shaved, yet not so close as his current was. It defined the point of his ears and softened his face.

 _“I could never have imagined my wolf with so little fur.”_ The deep rumble of his laughter could be heard vibrating around them. And for the first time since seeing him, she looked around them. She flushed as she noticed little wisps dancing around the field, attracted to the intense emotions they both cast. She knew this was dangerous in a way. They could attract demons. But she was here with him, in their element. She did not fear demons when he stood beside her.

 _“An unfortunate requirement. Although you did not seem to mind it.”_ She flushed gently at his teasing. She had not. It was a shock to see, but it did not change the fact he was still a handsome elf. Something, he did not fail to know. She huffed and rolled her eyes at him, playfully swatting his shoulder as he finally released her from his grasp. Although he immediately grabbed her hand as they began to walk closer to the water once more. She smiled and laced her fingers through his.

 _“Is the hermit outfit also part of the requirement? My, what would everyone think if they saw the wolf dressed so poorly.”_ She grinned mischievously as she picked at his clothes. The frayed edges and oddly stitched jacket. He huffed slightly, and she laughed as she felt the veil pull. She looked back to see him dressed in the black breeches and loose white shirt he’d always worn once. Weaved gold adorned the edges of the garb, once symbolic to his rank. And his trademark black fur adorned over his shoulder.

 _“Is this more to her highness’ approval?”_ She snorted at the retort, knowing his pride was the only thing that forced him to change. He sat beside the lake and pulled her gently towards him. She gave, and collapsed against his chest, sitting comfortably in his lap as her head rested against the fur. The familiar press of his cheek resting against her head was something she’d never thought she would ever experience again. And as they both gazed over the lake, the sway of flowers around them in an imaginary breeze, she felt as if she was sitting back in Arlathan. Relaxing as her friend vented his frustrations of power and greed into her ear as she tried to soothe him and help him in any way she could.

 _“Dirth ma.”_ Her voice was soft as she spoke, not wishing to ruin the moment as she felt his arms tighten around her once more. A heaviness seemed to set over him as he sighed into her hair. He was weary. So much more so than he had ever been before. She furrowed her eyebrows in worry.

Solas had lived for so long without another. Another he could confide in. He had few friends, even back in his glory days, and even fewer that he confessed his fears to. Mythal had been one. His creator. She had been a dear friend to him. One he would never completely forget, or forgive. Wisdom had been another. A more constant companion through the ages, but always pragmatic in her approach to things. He smiled gently. And then, Aravae. His spirit. His purpose. As Felassan had often taunted in good nature. She had become a constant companion after he had found her. She was always willing to help in any way she could. Sitting with him for days as he cursed his fellow Evenuri for their vices, sometimes, even Mythal had not escaped his ire. Mainly when she seemed so purposefully blind to what had become of her children. Her motherly nature not allowing her to see them in the light they had become. _Until they killed her._ He sighed and nuzzled his nose into the other's hair, inhaling deeply in hopes it would stop the memories he’d kept locked away for so long at bay.

 _“This is a different world. A different life. You are not bound to follow me and listen to all my mistakes any longer.”_ The words hurt to say. He wanted her to stay. Wanted her to help him through this. He did not know if he was strong enough alone. He was so weary of enduring alone. But he would. He would not bind her to him against her wishes. He would do this alone if he must. For his people. For her. However, in his own ramblings, he felt her huff in annoyance and shift, turning to face him as he looked up from her hair. Emerald eyes glistened with determination.

 _“I was not bound to listen back then, either. I had many roads I could have taken. I chose the one by your side. I chose to help you as I could, even if it was just to listen. Do not push me away as you have others, ma’falon. I could not take it. Not after just finding you.”_ Her fingers glided down his face before tugging gently at the tip of his ear. He couldn’t help the wolfish grin that etched onto his lips at that. He turned to where her wrist was exposed and nipped at the skin to which she yelped softly and laughed. Swatting at him once again.

 _“Dirth ma, harellan.”_ A shiver worked its way down his spine. He had not heard that word with so little malice in so many millenniums. From her lips, it sounded like praise, one that stroked his ego far too much back then, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t pleasing to hear it now.

 _“There is so much to tell. I have caused so many wrongs, da’enlea. I worry you could not forgive me for them. I cannot forgive myself.”_ She felt the ice squeeze her heart at the pain that echoed in his voice.

“Ar ame mar falon.” She placed her hand against his cheek once more, and he felt as their previous magic dissipated. Leaving him as he’d first arrived in the humble disguise of a lone apostate. His eyes closed, yet her thumb rubbed gently beneath them, causing him to open them once more.

 _“I will always be here; I will always forgive where you cannot. You do not have to tell me now. I will wait. Do not torture yourself any longer. You are not alone.”_ And with that, she placed her head back against his shoulder, the rough material pressed back as a reminder that this was not Arlathan. It was different now. But that was okay. As long as she had her friend by her side. They would be okay.

 _“Ma serannas, da’enlea. I have never deserved you.”_ A small smile played on his lips as he pressed them to the crown of her head, his eyes closing to relish in the little bliss he had once again found. As much as he wished to simply exist with her, they did need to speak of how they would address this in the waking world.

 _“May I ask, at least, what you are doing with this… Inquisition?”_ She turned to him slightly. Her eyes searching his own. He hummed and nodded.

 _“The breach in the sky, did you hear of what happened?”_ He straightened his posture, and she immediately turned to face him completely—her facing now sober as she nodded.

 _“Vin. Divine Justinia wished to stop the war with a meeting. Then it exploded, leaving a tear in the veil. No one really knows how. I am unaware of anything from this age that could cause such a thing.”_ Dark eyebrows furrowed in thought. Solas hummed and nodded, although her knowledge brought another question to his mind. Just how long had she been awake? He didn’t see her use magic in the waking, so he thought she had only been awake for the few months she wondered the Hinterlands. Still, her knowledge of this world suggested otherwise. It was a topic for another time. They did not have long left.

 _“Whatever did cause it, has left a mark that can seal it on the Herald’s hand. The young Dalish women I travel with, Ellana.”_ The woman tilted her head in thought. So she was correct. The Dalish elf was important. It still did not answer why Solas felt the need to be so close to this, however. Her eyes roamed over his figure.

 _“She does not know who you are.”_ It was not a question. He sighed heavily.

 _“No. It… would not help. I assume you have come in contact with the Dalish and learnt their beliefs?”_ It was her turn to sigh heavily. She had. And she had been chased off just as quickly. When she had tried to question their beliefs, she had been branded a flat ear, ignorant to the ancient elves' ways due to her corruption and submission to the shemlen. It had been challenging to see her own kind so split from themselves in so many ways.

 _“I understand. She is not to know, and therefore no one else. Then what is your story?”_ Her eyebrow raised in curiosity. His grin held the same mischievousness as the time he had tricked June into freeing some of his people into Fen’Harel’s care. She was suddenly suspicious.

 _“I am but a humble apostate, grown up in a small village to the North. I then travelled to ancient ruins and studied the fade to pass the time until I ended up hearing about the meeting of Divine Justinia.”_ She almost gaffed at him. Surely they would not believe such a simple lie?

 _“And… they believe this? How do you explain your knowledge or use of magic?”_ She was sceptical, to say the least. The way this world treated mages, it would be a miracle for someone to get away with that.

 _“The fade is a mysterious place for people who cannot walk it.”_ The smug grin never left his lips as she stared wide-eyed and disbelieving.

 _“So, your entire story is just, I learnt it from the fade?”_ She was dumbfounded, to say the least. Did these people really know nothing of the fade? Even magic users? The Herald herself was a mage, did she not know?

 _“Somniari are not common in this life. I have yet to meet another.”_ She huffed at his smug tone once more. As if he needed more reasons to feel superior. But she couldn’t help the grin that played on her lips. Trust her wolf to be able to spin such easy stories that others believed without fail.

 _“Fen’Harel garas athim dialathe.”_ She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but he chuckled darkly.

 _“Hara da’len.”_ She couldn’t help but snort at him. To think they had twisted him into such an evil god when he had once fought gods in order to save the children from their slavery.

 _“And what of me? We have never met then.”_ His eyebrows pulled together quickly; the grin banished from his face.

 _“It would be the wisest.”_ She felt as if her heart filled with lead. She did not wish to keep up the pretence of ignoring one enough once they woke. She did not trust herself to not slip when addressing him. While wallowing in her thoughts, she felt his arms once again circle her waist, tugging her back into his hold.

 _“However, I do not think I could keep that façade as well as I would like, da’enlea.”_ She flushed but smiled gently—her arms encircling his shoulders once more.

 _“They know very little of me yet, only that I have travelled the Hinterlands in the last few months. It would not be surprising for a young elven rogue to be wondering ancient tombs for treasures and secrets.”_ She felt him chuckle beneath her hold. A tiny smile on her lips as she heard his praise.

_“No, it would not be—an easy deception. I am impressed, da’enlea. But now, we must wake up.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a whole chapter hanging out in the fade. This is gonna be a slow story. 
> 
> I imagine ancient elves really didn’t grasp personal space or the difference between how to express affection between a friend or lover. Best friends forever. Literally for these two. 
> 
> Also, once upon a time, I like to think Solas would have just acted like a human-wolf... or elf-wolf? Hence where his name came from. Tel’abelas. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Dirth ma, harellan. = Tell me, trickster.  
> Da’enlea = Little light.   
> Ar ame mar falon. = I am your friend.   
> Somniari = Dream walker/ Fade walker   
> Fen’Harel garas athim dialathe. = Dread wolf comes in humble disguises/cover.   
> Hara da’len. = (to) trick little children.   
> Tel’abelas = I am not sorry.


	5. Their story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party learn of Solas and Aravae's history. Or a version of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning of animal death in this chapter. It's not super detailed but Hinterlands are known for its bears. Bearquisition.

Opening her eyes to the dull red material of her tent, put a damper on her perfect mood. Time in the fade was odd, it was only several hours, but it could feel like days. The rich colours and bright atmosphere of her pleasant memories were always more preferable than the dull void that was this wakening. A deep sigh left her as she shimmied her way out of the bedroll, the cool morning air chilling her presently as she escaped the warm cocoon of her bed. She humming gently, mindful that she was not camping alone for the first time in days while she strapped her armour back into place. Buckling her arm guards tightly so they would not slip as she worked. Today would be another busy day.

Especially after her rather leisurely strolls around the plains. Only having to fight the odd demons and rebels as she made her way through quietly. As she worked, her mind continued to relay the events of last night. He had remembered her. Had been excited to see her again. All her doubts had disappeared so quickly when he embraced her just as readily as she had for him. A smile played on her lips. She could have never dreamed he would still be alive, although, as she considers, she is not surprised that he of all escaped the fate of his brethren and the people. He had always been good at tricking and planning his way out of seemingly impossible situations, with a little extra help from them when needed. She chuckled lightly and began to sheath her daggers, buckling her quiver into place before rolling her bed back into her pack.

“On dhea.” She gasped at the soft voice behind her and turned to face him with wide eyes, before relaxing and poking her tongue out at him teasingly. She had been far too deep in thought to even hear him approach her. He chuckled from the opening of her tent.

“On dhea, harellan.” It felt nice to speak in her old tongue. Of course, she would mutter to herself when she was alone, but it was never quite the same as holding a conversation. She thought that was one of the biggest things she missed about her old life. The elves had lost their language. A beautiful and eloquent song that sounded pretty to anyone who’d listen, regardless if they understood the words.

“I presume you slept well?” His voice was even and polite. As if asking an acquaintance in pleasant conversation – but the grin on his lips gave himself away. She hummed gently, not giving him the satisfaction of affirmation before standing and shooing him out of her tent with a gentle hand gesture. Despite her closed attitude, she could not help the happiness that weld within her. Things had not changed so much between them. Perhaps they both simply wished for the familiarity of friendship and old roles they both fell into so quickly. Thousands of years of friendship could not be desecrated by thousands of separation. It was a pleasant thought. She quietly packed up her tent in the cold morning air, the suns light had barely begun to breach the horizon as Solas sat by the fire, stirring a small metal pot. She sniffed the air discreetly, smelling the mix of cooked meats and potatoes. Stew. She smiled and made her way to his side as she finished packing her belongings. She had done it for so many years now, it was second nature as she rested her bow against a log that had been dragged to the side of the fire. Possibly by Cassandra during her watch.

“Since when did you learn to cook?” She eyed the pot sceptically as she sat beside her bow, watching him. He chuckled gently and shook his head.

“A lonely apostate would learn how to feed himself rather quickly. Least he dies of hunger before the giant spiders could have a good attempt at it.” She snorted slightly and thanked him as he offered her a small portion. Humming as her cold hands suddenly prickled under the heat of the wooden bowl. She hesitantly took a bite as he nestled himself a reasonable distance from her side. She almost laughed too loudly at his offended expression.

“My cooking is not that bad.”

“It is not. It is only I’ve never even seen you attempt to cook for yourself… actually I lie. There was that one time. Although Felassan refused to let me try it. Cannot say it took much to refused blackened rabbit.” His nose crinkled in distaste as she giggled from beside him.

“It has gotten better. Besides, Ellana prepared this. I merely warmed it.” He muttered the last part quietly, pointedly looking away from her as she smirked in knowing. It was good. In fact, it had been quite some time since she’d had such nicely prepared food. She’d lived on rations for far too long it seemed. Maybe Ellysa was right. She didn’t care for herself enough. It would not have hurt to travel to a tavern and have a hot meal every once in a while. Her mind flashed in defiance. That was a lie. There was always a risk. Everywhere. The forest was safe. The wilds could hide her if she let them. It was safer. She ate slowly as she felt Solas leave the camp. To meditate if she was to guess. She would not follow. It would not do to draw too much attention to them both right away. It would be challenging to address their friendship in front of the others, despite their story. It would raise suspicion, regardless. A sigh left her lips once more. Suspicion was a feeling she knew all too well.

“Yeah, I don’t like being awake this early either.” She jumped slightly as she looked to the dwarf that emerged, yawning from his tent. She chuckled at his slightly dishevelled shirt. Bianca already strapped to his back.

“How do you know it is the morning and not the food that I despise?” She smiled easily at the man who quickly helped himself to a serving.

“Because Firecracker cooked it. If it had been Chuckles, I wouldn’t be surprised. Although I wouldn’t put it past him to burn it while trying to heat it up.” He eyed the bowl with suspicion now, inspecting it for any black. She laughed lowly. So, he was just as terrible as he used to be. Liar.

“So, if you’re so against mornings, why wake up so early, no one else is up yet.” She raised an eyebrow and looked to the other tents. Soft snores could be heard still.

“Give ‘em a few minutes. They’ll be up. Firecracker does like mornings, and I get the feeling she’ll be more than eager to get going as soon as she does. Better rest up now.” Aravae nodded and finished up her meal, placing it back by the fire as she stood to begin pulling the bed roll out of the empty tent.

“You don’t need to worry about that, I’ll sort it once I’m done. You’ll make me look lazy, and Cassandra doesn’t need another reason to complain about me.” Varric’s voice travelled over the fire, half-joking and yet serious at the same time. She grinned and continued to her work, turning to take down the tent once more.

“Consider it compensation for all the stories you told me for free yesterday… and the ones I’ll most likely pull from you today.” Varric laughed in return and nodded, finishing up his own dish as he then took the others and washed them out with a nearby waterskin. It didn’t take long for the other two women to wake and organise themselves before the sun had even left the horizon. Solas had returned shortly after as the Herald pulled out her map once more.

“Alright, today we find the mercenaries and see what they’re doing here. If they don’t relent, which is most likely, we will take them out.” The young woman nodded to herself before looking up at everyone else. To which each member nodded in agreement before Cassandra added.

“Then we return to Haven. We have already been here longer than anticipated. Leliana will be sending scouts to find out no doubt.” Aravae’s eyebrow lifted in confusion at the new name, and even more so once Ellana groaned in annoyance.

“Leliana can wait like everyone else.” The defiance was strong in the blonde’s sharp tone. She heard Varric chuckle uneasily from beside her.

“Don’t let her heard you say that.” His light-hearted warning only seemed to irritate the Dalish girl further.

“I’m not afraid of her, what can she do, send her birds after me?” Aravae stood back slowly and watched the scene unfold with interest and slight dejection. There was that Dalish arrogance many spoke of. It was no fault to be proud of one’s actions and have confidence. Still, by the way Varric muttered under his breath, perhaps it was necessary to be cautious of this Leliana. Arrogance has always been easily mistaken for pride, even for the best of the people. She quickly grabbed her bow in a way to exit the tense scene before everyone seemed ready to continue on their mission.

\----

\----

Sweat clung to her form as she growled lowly in annoyance. Cassandra grunted in agreement as she bashed her shield over the beasts’ head once more, trying to daze it enough to stop attacking. Apparently, the bear was just dumb as it continued to wail on the same shield that split its skin open. She could hear Ellana cry out as she hurled fire spells at the other bear that had snuck up on them as they attempted to rid themselves of the first. The ground smoked in retaliation to the spells yet didn’t seem to bother the bear all that much. Solas’ ice traps were more than helpful to keep them grounded enough to not attack the poor mages while Varric and her continued to shot at them, trying to get a good aim but the bears erratic movements made it difficult. Especially when you were also trying to dodge a heavily clawed paw with enough force to send you over the field. _Damn Hinterlands and bears._ She had apparently let her mind wander too far off as she was suddenly shaded from the sun, and looked up to find the massive form of the bear about to collapse on her. She panicked and lifted her arms in a feeble attempt to not be squashed before a light blue barrier cast itself over her form. The bear hitting it suddenly, which seemed to startle it as Cassandra managed to run her sword through its throat in its daze. The pest quickly fell as the team then turned all their attention on the other. However, it seemed to recognise its kind fate and slashed once more at Cassandra before running off to lick its wounds clean.

“Nice to know you still have impeccable timing.” She grinned as she heaved in air, walking to stand beside Solas, wiping the sweat from her forehead. He smirked slightly and nodded.

“And you still get far too close to your hunt.” She narrowed her eyes at him momentarily as he looked down on her smugly. Before she could open her mouth in a playful retort, she heard a voice clear loudly behind them. The two elves suddenly looked over their shoulders to spot three pairs of eyes on them. One in obvious suspicion, another in weariness while the third merely looked amused.

“And when exactly did you two go out fighting last night, to know each other so well?” Mythal’s markings wrinkles on Ellana’s brow as her eyebrows drew together in suspicion. Her eyes narrowing at Aravae pointedly.

“Oh… um.” She did not know how to respond under the apparent scrutiny of their leader. Her hands began to wring behind her back, looking away from the woman. She definitely looked guilty. It was not good.

“Ir abelas, Herald. It seems we had forgotten to tell you all. Or rather, there had not been the right moment.” Solas’ was calm beside her, his posture never changing as he turned to face his companions. Not for the first time, she wished she could remain so composed under obvious peril.

“Forgot to tell us, what exactly?” Ellana’s voice never faulted from the accusing tone. Her arms now folded in front of her as her hip cocked to the side. Cassandra’s eyes had begun to narrow also.

“Aravae and I have met previously during my wonderings. Although it has been quite some time since then, and I regret that I did not immediately recognise her yesterday.” He spoke evenly, even bowing his head slightly at the end toward the Herald, a show of subtle submission. She almost raised an eyebrow in question but caught herself.

“We have certainly changed after so many years.” She smiled sheepishly instead. The blonde elf did not seem so happy with her chiming in and opened her mouth once more. However, it was not her who spoke next.

“So that explains why Chuckles here couldn’t keep his eyes off of you yesterday. I thought our resident ice block actually had a crush on the cute elf. I’m sad to say I’m disappointed, my version would have been much more fun to tell.” Her cheeks flared red almost immediately; however, nothing would escape her mouth as she offered it. Her eyes darted to Solas momentarily to see his cheeks ever so slightly red as he frowns at the dwarf.

“Naturally, you would make up such fantastical stories in your head, Durgen’len.” She giggled despite herself, relaxing slightly at the teasing. Her eyes looked back to the other woman for a moment. Cassandra still seemed cautious but would not ask any more questions. Ellana was a different story. She looked sceptical, to say the least.

“So, when did you two meet then? It must have been some time ago if you didn’t even recognise one another.” Aravae almost sighed. She half wished the young elf would simply take their comments at face value as the others. It really was not her responsibility to know everything about them, was it? But she knew it was the bitterness inside her. She didn’t enjoy lying. It was a necessary evil in order to survive. She had spent a long time learning how to survive. She would continue to endure the trails of doing so. Aravae made to keep walking, Solas now walking beside her as the others followed in suit. Varric and Cassandra generally seemed interested in the story while Ellana wanted answers.

“It would have been… over twenty years ago now. Barely past maturity. Although considering, that could be debatable.” It was Solas’ turn to speak; however, Aravae chuckled at his words. Yes, they were somewhat rebellious youths. Him more so than her. But he had definitely taught her his ways. A terrible influence really.

“Were you not exploring ancient ruins back then, Solas?” The Heralds tone had seemed to calm now that it was the male elf who spoke. Less hostile and more curious. It seemed Solas had spoken of his past with her. Or at least a version of it. He was usually a very guarded person, perhaps there was something he saw in this young Dalish she had yet to see.

“I was. You could imagine my surprise when I found anybody else in them as well.” He chuckled dryly. Aravae hummed gently, imagining such a scene in her head. It was not hard to believe. Especially with the life, she had lived, even once awakening from her eternal sleep.

“What were you doing in ancient ruins? You are no mage. I can’t imagine it was the same reason as Solas.” It was Cassandra's turn to chime in. Her eyebrows were drawn in suspicion and interest. Aravae bit her lip slightly, turning her head down in thought as her mind danced over her story. A former robber should not be proud of their actions. She must act nervous and ashamed of her previous actions, whether she had done them or not.

“I…Well… You can find a great deal of important or priceless artifacts in ruins. Elvhen or otherwise. As Solas said. We were barely past our early youths. And youths will do foolish things in order to survive. I took what I could find from these ruins and sold them to those who wanted something fancy or knew what they were… It is not something I am proud of. But it fed me and gave me shelter. It is a part of me. I met Solas when I was exploring a new ruin. He lectured me and forced me to put everything back. Not before telling me the lore behind every piece, mind you.” She spoke softly but assured. The other two travellers chuckled slightly in amusement. However, she watched as the young women’s face soured at the information she had learnt.

“You stole from our people? And sold them to shemlen for coin! How could you do such a thing when the Dalish spends their lives trying to recover what they can to rebuild our legacy!” The Herald shouted in anger, her hands fisting as fire unknowingly danced beneath her palms in a fury. Aravae frowned heavily. No. She decidedly did not see whatever Solas had in this quick child. The Dalish were far from rebuilding their legacy. They were staring at a broken mirror, most of the pieces lost to time, and tried to fix the mirror with the remaining fragments. Of course, the pieces were the foundation of the mirror, but it would never fit together like it once had. There were pieces missing. And no matter how much they searched, they would never find the remaining. Especially when they abandoned half of their people to slavery in order to explore instead. Fury weld in her veins. Hot as she clenched her teeth. But she would not show it. She was not a child, allowing every thought and emotion to pass her face in full view of everyone to witness. She breathed in slowly before reply evenly.

“Yes. It was foolish. I readily admit that. I did not consider what my actions had cost my people. I was young.” The words rang more accurate than she wished to admit to herself. The mantra that had cut her so deeply for years ringing in her ears once more.

“That doesn’t change that fact you-!” Ellana continued to shout before Cassandra placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Herald. Now is not the time to begin fights with those who have chosen to ally with us in order to fix the world. We have all done wrongs. Perhaps just as we do, she wishes to atone for what she has done. It is best left in the past, and she clearly regrets the things she has done in order to survive.” Her opinion of the warrior woman increased significantly. Aravae did not have a strong opinion on the woman. Not willing to condemn her for her suspicion. It was natural and a smart move on her part. But defending a stranger from the wrath of someone they seemed to admire, was an honourable gesture. One that spoke more volumes for her character than anything else could. She watched as the Dalish elf retreated on her words. Closing her mouth as she continued to walk. Aravae hummed quietly to herself. At least she would listen to others. A brief pressure squeezed her wrist before retreating. She looked to Solas for a moment, his eyes questioning, yet a heat laid beneath them. She shook her head and smiled. He did not need to be angry at the young woman. Her reaction was understandable, albeit highly unnecessary since she had never committed the act in the first place. But when creating a believable story, it is best to cast one in a questionable light if you wish to be believed. Because why would anyone discredit themselves when making up a story? Everyone wanted to be perfect, the great, the hero. No one ever was. There were no such things as heroes. Just ordinary people, with virtues and vices, trying to do the right thing. Sometimes on a grander scale than others. But it did not matter. It never mattered. She sighed to herself but decided to continue with the story in order to move on from the unpleasant air that now surrounded them all.

“Once I told Solas what I had planned to do with the artifacts and had done before, he reprimanded me. Not unlike you. But he decided to take it upon himself to show me what exactly I was giving away. Eventually, it ended with us travelling together for a time. Although to begin with, I think he just liked that someone was around to kill the giant spiders while he slept.” She grinned cheekily and looked to Solas who only shook his head.

“I’d be lying if it wasn’t a pleasant attribute to keeping you around.” His voice was dry in its delivery and her nose wrinkled.

“I am very pleasant, thank you very much. At least I knew how to cook. I still don’t know how you survived so long on raw food.” She huffed while the others hid their smiles. Even Ellana seemed to giggle slightly at the remark. Varric’s earlier words, clearly having rung true with the rest of them.

“Maybe it is because some of us are smart enough to tell the difference between mushrooms that are poisonous and those that are not.” She actively frowned at that while he looked smug.

“That was once. A very long time ago.” Varric clearly couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore and questioned her.

“What exactly did you eat?” Solas could not stop the slight grin the settled on his lips. Aravae sighed and crossed her arms around her stomach, remembering back to that awful time. She could still feel the stomach pains. She’d lost her voice for days after throwing up so often it caused her throat to turn red. She muttered beneath her breath, but it was loud enough to be heard as the party began to laugh openly.

“Deep mushroom.” Her cheeks turned bright pink as she pulled up her hood in defence. Her arms crossing tightly against her.

“They glow. How did you think they would be okay to eat?” Her cheeks once again flushed. She could not tell them that glowing vegetation was once a ubiquitous sight in her time, and it was not so difficult to mix poisonous and non-poisonous foods up. She opened her mouth, trying to defend herself yet as she did, she felt Solas pause, grabbing her arm firmly. His head turned slightly to the side as if to listen carefully. It stopped her from speaking as she did the same. Voices. And the sound of blades on a whetstone.

“Bandits are up ahead.” The party then turned serious. The conversation died as they began to tread carefully into the new territory, all of them reading their weapons for a fight. Now it was time for work.

\-----

\-----

They all lumbered, exhausted as they finally approached the edges of the refugee camp. Their bodies slicked in sweat even as the sunset over the mountains, leaving the sky streaked in reds, pinks and oranges. Aravae felt more drained than she had in months. Clearly fighting all the rebel mages and templars had been too easy a fight for her. She had forgotten what it was like to verse real opponents. And those bandits definitely put up a fight. She winced as she walked to the healing hut on reflex. Her day was not done, however. Now, it was time to say goodbye to everyone who had become something of a small family to her. Her lips pressed firmly together as she imagined telling the children she was leaving and would not return this time for quite some time. The imagine frowns were more than enough to break her heart. She dreaded telling them. But she would not be a coward. She would not leave it for someone else to do in her wake. She owed them that much. With that in mind, she entered the small hut to quickly be enveloped in a hug. Hot tears leaked down her neck as the arms around her tugged tightly.

“I know. I knew you would leave when they went after you. How could you not? Just know I will miss you. And I would like to spend the time we have with the children.” Aravae smiled as she held the other woman. Never had she felt so close to a human, been cared for by one. But she could manage this—this one last wish.

“Ma nuvenin, ma’falon.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are your thoughts on Aravae so far? I'd really like to hear some. Does she come off as a mary sue? I hope not, I've tried to lay in faults and such. But I need other perspectives. Critical comments are always welcome. 
> 
> Translations   
> On dhea = Good morning.   
> Ir abelas = I am sorry. (Lit. I am sorrow).   
> Durgen’len = Child of the stone.   
> Ma nuvenin, ma’falon = As you wish, my friend.


	6. Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aravae finally enters Haven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So warning of implied sexual assault and regular assault. It's not stated or continued on, but just keep it in mind. 
> 
> Italics is spoken in Ancient Elvhen.

The children were as devastated as she imagined when she had rallied them up to read them one last story surrounding a large fire that they had all built-in preparation. Ellysa, who sat beside her comfortably leaning into her, had told them all tonight was a special night. Aravae felt her heart clench as she spoke of leaving them all and following the Inquisition to continue her own story. Their faces full of sadness and two pairs of arms instantly wrapped around her legs, begging her not to go. She had looked down on the twins and smiled gently, telling them she would come back one day, she would not leave them forever. She needed to help fix the sky. And then she would have an even better story for them. To that they had all lightened up slightly, hopeful eyes glistening in the firelight. She smiled and began her story for the night. If she was to leave, she would leave them with something to remember her by.

\----

\----

Aravae’s thighs ached as she bounced slightly on top of her horse. The saddle was fine brown leather, and the horse was only trotting along. Still, it had been a very long time since she had ridden such a creature and she had forgotten how much it could wear on the bones when not accustomed to it. She wanted so badly to press her hands against her thighs and let her magic ease the pain, but it was risky with everyone around. She sat in the middle of the party, riding beside Solas. At the same time, Cassandra and Ellana travelled ahead, and Varric trotted behind. It was too risky, and slight discomfort was not enough to lose her judgement. Everyone was mostly quiet as they rode. It had been days of travel, only stopping to give the horses a break and to eat something before continuing on. At night they would camp for the darkest hours and then continue on. All agreeing they would like to get back to Haven as quickly as possible, even if it meant slight discomfort. She winced as her horse shuffled slightly, causing her to jump higher in her saddle than before. She had not wanted to cause a fuss when they all agreed, so she had kept quiet.

“Would you like me to heal it for you?” She turned to Solas, his eyes already on her. She smiled bashfully but shook her head. He would have to place his hands on her thighs, and while they were both on horses, that would be somewhat awkward to do.

“It is fine, besides, who knows what kind of stories Varric would make up if he were to witness such a thing.” She joked as Solas scoffed slightly. His eyes shifted back to the dwarf before nodding in agreement.

“I suppose you are right. We are not far from Haven, only a few more hours and we should be there.” She nodded in understanding and then once again drew quiet. It was not unpleasant. She was familiar with travelling alone for so long, the silence was a blessing. Noise meant trouble. But she did not mind journeying with company for once. It definitely made the time pass quickly. And the horses sped up the process exponentially over walking. Even if the fade did guide her at times. She decided she would enjoy the last moments of piece before arriving at this village. She did not know what to expect really. The base of operations for the Inquisition, closest to the breach. She did not know how big or small it was, and she was curious to find out what it was like. Who were the other people that they referred to? They had spoken of this Leliana. She sounded like some sort of spy with scouts and ravens at her disposal. Who else was part of this Inquisition? She would find out soon enough as they continued to ride over the snowy mountains—the air chilling further as she lifted her hood. The cold did not bother her too much. She naturally regulated her body temperature with magic. It came so naturally that no one ever detected that she was doing it—most of the time, not even she.

Eventually, the large wooden gates came into view, shrouded in white forests. The closer they trotted, the more soldiers began to emerge, training with one another just outside the gates. Giant red tents dotted the grounds until a minor forgery came into view. The group stopped beside it, next to a tiny wooden pen. She drew her eyebrows together as she slowly dismounted as well. Her lips tightened in a frown as she watched everyone leave their horses with a man who grabbed the reins, leading them into the small pen before beginning to remove the riding gear.

“I promise they are looked after, there is simply nowhere else for them to go at this time.” Solas’ voice echoed from behind her, she looked to him as he remained neutral, his hands clasped behind his back.

“I feel bad for them. They have ridden so far, the least they could have is shelter.” Her eyes lift to the blinding light of the sky. She hummed to herself in thought before beginning to unbuckle the horses' saddle, earning the attention of the man looking after the other three horses.

“You needn’t worry, Miss. I can look after ‘em for you.” The man was tanned, with short blonde hair. His smile was friendly as he lifted his arm in an offer to take the reins. Aravae only shook her head, offering her own smile.

“Thank you, but I would like to look after her. She had been kind enough to let me ride her here, the least I could do is take care of her as well.” The man seemed to pause, unsure what to do with that comment before shrugging and muttering something about ‘elves’ under his breath. It did not seem to be in disdain, however. She grinned before turning back to her horse. She was beautiful, a deep brown coat with a white stripe along the bridge of its nose. She walked to its head and gently began to loosen the bridle so she could slip it out of its mouth without hurting her. The horse snorted into her face in a friendly manner which caused her to chuckle slightly. It was only as she came back to remove the saddle did, she realise Solas had stayed with his own horse. He lifted the saddle from her horse and took it to the side of the fence, resting it beside his own before turning back to her. Smiling, she then removed the blankets and grabbed two brushes from on a bench. They both began to brush down the beautiful creatures who seemed to preen under the slow attention after such a long ride after handing one to Solas. She began to hum gently, a labourer’s song from a time long since passed. Before long, they had both finished, and Aravae neatly banded the small, loose braid she had weaved in the horse’s hair before placing a chaste kiss to its snout and allowed it to walk into the pen with its kin. Solas watched her with a soft look in his eye.

“You truly have not changed.” She smiles at that and shakes her head.

“We have all changed, ma’falon. But we have not forgotten.” The side of his lip quirked minutely before he stepped forward suddenly and placed his large hands against her hips. She could feel the heat of them even through the thick leather of her armour as she looked up to him in question. His head tilted down to her as they stood close together, she tried not to shiver as the heat of his body quickly encased her before she felt the soothing tendrils of magic curl over her form. Heat promptly rushed to her cheeks and the tips of her ears as she felt it creep around her thighs slowly. She clenched her jaw to stop herself from making any noise while her eyelids closed in relief at the absence of pain after so many days. She only realised she was leaning into him as his hands left and he stepped back. She had to catch herself slightly to which he chuckled with a gleam in his eyes. She frowned, the heat quickly disappearing from her face as she smacked his chest slightly and hissed.

“Shadera.” She passed him and began to march towards the wooden gates, her quick pace no match for his much longer strides as he quickly returned to her side. She walked in step with him and allowed him to show her the village.

“Seggrit is the blonde man speaking with one of the scouts by the table there. He is the only merchant currently in Haven. Though, if you need something, I believe it best to find elsewhere during our travels.” She chuckled slightly and caught his meaning. The man must be taking advantage of being the only merchant here. He must cut a fine price, although it clearly didn’t win him any favours. They then walked up the stairs and waves quietly to Varric who looked deep in conversation with someone, his face clearly tired and tinged with annoyance. She wondered what he was talking about to have such a look. Solas must have picked up on her train of thought.

“Although Varric likes to be known as the storyteller and unwelcome tag-a-long, he has his own spy system with the dwarven Carta.” Her eyes widened slightly at the knew knowledge before nodding her understand.

“And everyone here is okay with that?” Solas chuckles at her question.

“Not entirely, but the information is valuable, and they’re not about to turn that away while a hole currently resides in the sky and demons are spawning all over Thedas. Spies are crucial.” They continued walking around the place, Solas pointing out notable people and places. At the same time, Aravae asks questions about them, curious as to how this little place was currently holding something like an Inquisition. Eventually, they came to the large doors of the Chantry. She shuddered and pursed her lips.

“I’ll assume you know what this is, and I won’t subject you to the inside. Although I’m sure eventually you will be called to the war room in order to meet the advisors.” She lifted an eyebrow at that but didn’t question as Solas began turning once more, this time with more purpose in his step. She started walking quickly to keep up until they reached a small clove of three wooden huts. She eyed them all briefly before following Solas into the closest one. The moment she stepped into the one-room cabin, she felt warmth envelop her. A small sigh of gratitude escapes her lips at the pleasant feeling. He must have set up glyphs. She quickly dropped her backpack by the door and rolled her shoulders in relief, enjoying finally feeling free after so many days carrying it around. It had barely left her back in two weeks. She felt much lighter all of a sudden. Her eyes roamed around the room, taking in the neatly laid bed, a small fireplace that Solas waved a hand over, lighting thoughtlessly as he too relieved himself of his pack, placing it neatly into a small gap between his bed and nightstand. His jacket quickly following. Her eyes then laid over the tiny desk in the corner, already overflowing with books and scrolls.

A feathered pen neatly propped up against an inkpot. She wandered over and ran her slender fingers over the spine of the books. Most of them surrounding theories on the fade, magic and history. Her fingers paused on a rather large, black leather piece. The golden letters of Ancient Elvhen glittering on its spine. _Laia Arlathan._ She pulled the book gently, as to not knock the others over. Opening the literature, her eyes gazed over the letters, not so much reading as she was admiring the penmanship. The cold grasp of longing once again pulled at her heart. Another piece of her home that she missed so thoroughly.

“You may borrow it if you like. Although the contents is… somewhat difficult to read.” She turned to him, his eyes holding a faraway look as pain controlled his expression. She closed the book and placed it on the desk. She would take it if only to have some idea of what actually happened once she fell asleep. She then walked to him and placed a hand against his cheek, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Do not dwell on past events, ma’fen. There is enough to worry about now.” He nodded and sat in a cushioned chair that definitely had not initially been in this cabin. He hummed in thought, blue eyes scanning the shelter, narrowing his eyes at the wooden chairs. He then adjusted himself in his seat, long legs parting as he offered his hand to her. She took his hand without thought, her eyebrow ready to raise in question before he pulled her suddenly. A loud yelp left her as she was turned to sit on one of his thighs while he lifted her legs to rest over his other. She hummed in amusement as she leaned into his hold as not to fall off the small chair, they both squeezed onto.

“I could have sat on the other chairs.”

“They’re wooden and uncomfortable.”

“There is also the bed.”

“Here is much more comfortable.” She laughed aloud and shook her head, hearing the surety in his voice paired with a smug grin. She began to play with his sweater's soft wool, feeling the hard press of under armour beneath it. She smirked softly. Always prepared. No matter what.

“If you say so, ma’fen. Now, tell me of these advisors. I’m assuming the Leliana you spoke of the other day is one of them?” She tilted her head. He nodded and wrapped his arms around her waist and beneath her knees, lifting her slightly as he crossed his leg under the other comfortably. He then placed her back down as he leaned back into the seat, the arm around her waist never leaving.

“Yes. She is the Inquisitions spymaster. She seems rather adept at her job; it is impressive. I have no doubt she will be calling upon you shortly; however, she does not like having people in Haven she does not know of.” She nods. A brilliant woman if Solas was to compliment her. She also realised she would have to be careful around her. Luckily, she had been awake long enough to have an alibi of her whereabouts before the Hinterlands. Not that those were particularly good whereabouts. She frowned and realised she would have to divulge more of her story than she would like to. Before she could even tell Solas. She could now, of course. But the air was too quiet, her head pressed against his chest lazily as she listened to the steady thump of his heart. No. It was too peaceful now to bother with such painful memories. Just as he kept his secrets, she would keep hers.

“And the others? How many are there?” Her fingers had travelled lower now, her fingers entwining around the string of the jawbone that hung from his neck.

“There are three: Leliana the spymaster and right hand of the Divine. Josephine is an Antivan woman that acts as an ambassador. The last is Commander Cullen. A former Templar that separated from the order after Kirkwall. Apparently, many templars took the war as an opportunity to leave the Chantry and the order.” She froze—a templar. One of the advisors was a templar. And from Kirkwall. She swallowed thickly and forced her fingers to continue playing with the strings beneath her fingers. It now felt much heavier for some reason. Despite trying to play off the information, Solas was no fool. He felt her freeze beneath him, and the hand around her waist began to rub circles into her side, in soothing motions. Slowly she began to relax once more and allowed the information to file off in her mind, rather than stick to the forefront.

“You’ve met them.” It wasn’t a question. She sighed and nodded, unknowing if she truly wished to speak of the events in such a calm environment. But she quickly realised this was probably the best time to talk about it. She sighed once more. Allowing all her jittery nerves to release through it. Or so she hoped. Her hand gripped at the jawbone, the blackened teeth digging into her flesh. It didn’t work.

“I… have. I have been awake for nine years.” Solas inhaled loudly. She had been awake for so long. Alone in this new world, wandering. She had run into templars. Alone. He felt his jaw tighten as did his hold on her waist. She hummed lightly and placed her hand firmly against his chest to calm him.

“I am fine, ma’fen. I am alive.” He released his jaw, but his hold did not slacken. Instead, he tugged her closer to him, his other arm now resting on her covered thigh. She couldn’t help but smile gently. So many aeons and he was still so protective. Or territorial. She giggled softly to herself.

“I had originally travelled in the Tevinter Imperium with a small group of people. Naturally, I could not stay there long, so I travelled to the Free Marches. I had been cautious, of course. However, I had never even heard of Templars or known of the circles at the time.” Her voice was distant, trying not to crack on the emotions that suddenly swarmed her. She had never spoken of it out loud. Never spoken of what she had lived through since waking up. How could she? Who would listen and understand? Understand how _wrong_ this world was like she did. No one here had ever lived through the golden ages. Never seen the life they once lived. It had not been perfect, but it was never as broken as this world was. She swallowed again.

“I… I was caught off guard by some. Using magic for some small task without thinking. And they… they…”, she tried to rid the ball of cotton lodged in her throat. Taking a deep breath, she continued.

“They took me to the Kirkwall Circle. I spent three years there before the Chantry exploded, and the rebellion began.” She tried to turn from him, not wanting him to see her tremble beneath her memories. She felt his hand gently take her face, his thumb gently wiping away the hot tears that leaked from her eyes.

“When they caught you… did they…?” He could not say the words himself, his question merely lingered as she nodded in confirmation. Heat immediately swelled in his chest, a growl between his teeth as his fingers dug into her skin. She turned her face to break from his hand and nuzzled into his neck. Muttering reassurances into the delicate skin as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. It did little to calm him. She sighed and began to graze her nails over the back of his head, trailing them down to the back of his ear before tracing them along the cuff to the very point. He shuddered beneath her and sighed heavily, the tension of anger immediately leaving him.

 _“You play unfair.”_ Their tongue slipped easily from his lips as she grinned in victory. Her tears quickly forgotten as she calmed her wolf.

 _“You anger too easily over things that have already been. You cannot change them now. I am alive. I am free now.”_ The words seemed to trigger something in him as he looked at her with such intensity; it made her eyebrows furrow in question.

 _“I can try.”_ She frowned at the words. Unsure of what he meant. He could not go back in time and change these events; he was being ridiculous. Unless it was not her, he was thinking of. She opened her mouth to question him; however, there was a knock at their door before it opened. A recruit stood in the doorway; his mouth opened before his eyes laid on them. Wrapped heavily in one another as they looked at him. Her cheeks and ears immediately flamed red as she cleared her throat and made to stand, which Solas quickly followed, his expression quickly returning to neutral. Apparently, it was enough for the recruit to remember what he had been sent for.

“Miss, the advisors wish to speak with you in the war room. I am to escort you.” Aravae swallowed once more. Her throat already feeling raw after having spoken of her past once today. She nodded though and made to follow him. Solas did not. She breathed in deeply as she stood back into the cold of the winter mountains, reality once again asserting itself.

It was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solas was once a massive flirt, and you can’t convince me otherwise. There is no way someone is as smooth as our elf without practice.   
> I know lots of stories are slow burns that take forever for Solas to open up, but since these two were close friends, I feel like I can skip all of that and make Solas a bit more OOC. Do you like it? Or would you prefer more canon, stoic Solas?
> 
> Translations:  
> Shadera = Flirt, or Flirty person.  
> Laia Arlathan = (The) Fall (of) Arlathan.


	7. The Advisors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aravae meets the advisors, and Solas distracts her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and comments. <3 They really do help me know who likes the story.

She walked the short distance back to the Chantry, following the scout from a slight distance until he opens the large wooden doors for her and she quickened her pace to make her way inside. Once more, the warmth enveloped her, yet it didn’t feel quite as cosy as Solas’ cabin, instead caused by the hundreds of candles littering the pillars and walls to light up the dark interior. Emerald eyes lingered over the various religious drapes and banners that covered almost all surfaces, she’d never actually been inside a Chantry before. She wasn’t surprised that this was how it looked. She paused as the scout did the same, his hand tapping against the door at the end of the large hall, a voice calling them inside. The scout then opened the door and stepped to the side, obscuring the view of the room while holding the door for her. She breathed in deeply, discreetly, as she walked into the room. Her eyes rolled over the five occupants; Cassandra and Ellana stood on one side of a large wooden table, closest to her. On the other stood three very different looking advisors. She slowly walked in and bowed her head slightly, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“You requested my presence?” She asked quietly, raising her head to look slightly over the group.

“Yes, thank you. You may leave, Thomas.” She listened as the scout pressed his arm over his chest and left the room, closing the door with a slight thud before she was left alone. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck and arms rise in apprehension. The woman who spoke was a red-haired woman, rather pretty despite her hardened features an armoured body. If she were to guess, this would be Leliana.

“I am Leliana, the spymaster of the Inquisition. This is Josephine, the ambassador and Cullen, the Commander of the Inquisitions troops.” Aravae’s eyes lingered on the dark-skinned woman. She was dressed rather extravagantly for residing in the snowy mountain town. Still, she supposed that was expected of one who was trying to keep appearances.

“Andaran atish’an, Miss Aravae.” The elves eyes widened briefly at the welcome, but she smiled gently and nodded at the woman.

“Ma serranas, my lady.” The woman’s cheeks flushed slightly as she adjusted the board in her arms. Aravae did not have to look at the man to know what he looked like. But she clenched her fist gently behind her as she turned slowly to the man who stood at the end of the table. His eyes burned into her, making her want to wince at the judgement in them. His eyebrows were furrowed in apparent distaste, a frown tugging at his lips that displayed his unease. He had changed somewhat. His armour was different, and he seemed even more run-down than when he was knight-captain—also the hair.

“I thought you said she was a rogue?” The Commander then turned to Ellana and Cassandra without addressing her at all. She sighed heavily, all her silent hopes that he would not recognise her crumbling to pieces, like sand slipping through her fingers. She had done her best to remain as neutral and unnoticeable as possible in the circle, but it was never enough to keep the templars from noticing her.

“I think I would know considering I fought beside her for a whole week, Commander.” Ellana’s tone was annoyed. Aravae supposed she was upset at being questioned about something so obvious. _Ir abelas, da’len._ It was a futile thought, but one that counted. She watched as the knight-captains expression turned even more confused before his eyes landed on her. She froze. She couldn’t help herself. She knew what happened when templars were suspicious and even more so when they were confused. If they were confused about a mage, it usually meant death. Better death than abominations. She wanted to hiss at the thought: Shemlen and their ridiculous notions.

“You were in the Kirkwall Circle. Why are you pretending to be a rogue now? What have you done?” She bristled slightly in annoyance as well. Of course. She had to do something. She had to be guilty of something if she were to hide as a mage. The words hiss passed her lips before she could stop herself.

“Because I have to commit a crime if I don’t tell the world I’m a mage. Is that it, Knight-Captain? It’s not like I was taught to fear and hate my abilities every day I was caged in those forsaken walls.” The words tasted like poison on her tongue. She had shed her tears early. Left her melancholy with Solas. Now she felt the anger, the bitter sting of hatred growing in her gut as she sneered at the man who suddenly flinched under her words. His earlier fight receding slightly. The two who had travelled with her previously seemed startled at her less than pleasant demeanour.

“You are a mage and did not tell us?” It was the seekers turn to be angry, her arms crossing over her chest. Her face contorted in anger as her eyes narrowed on Aravae. Said woman sighed once more, forcing down the fire that burnt through her veins.

“Yes. I did not tell you because it is not important. I have not used magic in years.” It was partially the truth. She had not fought with magic since the Imperium. She wondered if she would need to divulge that information to them as well, but shook her head mentally. No. It was none of their business. It was not their business if she was a mage either. 

“Why not?” It was the spymasters turn to speak up. She looked bored on the conversation, having been watching everyone else’s reactions to the news. Until of course, she began asking the right questions. Aravae turned to her, her eyes roaming over the woman in slight approval. This one was dangerous. Smart. Calculated.

“Like I said, I was taught to hate my magic in that circle. Learnt that it was to be feared and just how much the world feared it. After the rebellion in Kirkwall, I ran as far as I could from it. With templars and apostates running rampant everywhere, why would I risk it? Death would be the only outcome if some rogue templar found me practising. So, I stopped. Completely.” The people around the table looked at her sceptically—the only slightly remorseful look, coming from the ambassador who then spoke up.

“It is good it is out in the open now. But it should not matter considering there are no more circles and mages are not required to be anywhere as of present. We should be honoured that Mis Aravae is willing to stay, while all the templars are currently in Haven.” Aravae could have hugged the woman in thanks. The others seemed to back off slightly. Not particularly happy with the latest information, and whatever bond she had been forming with Cassandra had suddenly snapped in half. But she was not being sentenced to death. And the Commander's hand had left the hilt of his sword, causing her shoulders to relax gently.

“You’re right Josephine, but I am curious. When did a mage learn to shoot a bow so well? By the Herald’s recounts, you were remarkably proficient for someone who had only been shoot for two years at most.” Aravae couldn’t help but smile at the woman. Yes. She was clever. It was as admirable as it was concerning.

“I learnt to hunt, long before I went to the circle. I was an apostate on my own before then. I still needed to keep a low profile, and animals killed with magic do not taste quite right. It was also useful to have a backup weapon if my magic was hindered at all.” She hoped it was enough. Hoped that they would leave her past alone. She could see Cullen twitching, wanting to ask more of her past. It was one thing she would never tell the templars at Kirkwall. Only that she had wandered alone. Nothing else. She had adamantly refused to tell them she had come from the Imperium. Something that would have killed her immediately had they known. She once again looked around the room, daring the others with her eyes to ask more. However, it seemed they were sated for now. Each far more distant than when she had arrived, but she could deal with that. She could deal with distance. It was not uncommon to her.

“Why do you wish to help with the Inquisition, knowing it is part of the chantry, regardless if they are allied with us or not?” It was Cassandra who spoke up once more. Her anger subsiding into rationality, thankfully.

“Is it not enough to simply wish to help? There is a hole in our sky, tearing apart the veil that threatens all of Thedas and everyone in it. Spirits are being torn from their world and twisted into mindless demons threatening the children. If you wish to stop that, I will do all I can to help. Regardless of who it is, that is stopping it. Unless of course, you plan to uphold the notion of apostates. However, I was willing to deter that thought, considering my friend also remains here to help.” The advisors nodded in acceptance; Cassandra’s arms dropped to her side as she gave.

“Solas. I am to assume you are also a… what did he call it… fade walker?” Aravae’s eyes opened briefly in shock. Surprised that he had told them, he had also mentioned he was one of few in this world. They probably did not entirely understand what it meant.

“….Yes, I am a Somniari.” It was the heralds turn to frown as she thought.

“I suppose that’s a better explanation as to why you and Solas continued to travel together after being found.” She was still bitter about her past actions it seemed. Aravae nodded nonetheless.

“It would be useful to have another person who understands the fade, along with Solas. It may also help when we go to speak with the rebel mages in Redcliffe.” The entire groups' attention then turned to Josephine. Everyone except Cullen nodded in agreement.

“I agree having someone else who understands this magic is beneficial; but, I’m still certain we should seek the templars for support. We don’t need hundreds of mages running around, there will no doubt be abominations.” There was a collective sigh amongst the group, and Aravae almost chuckled. This was clearly an on-going debate. Before they continued, she spoke up.

“Is that all you require of me?” Once again, their attention turned back to the mage. It was Leliana who spoke first.

“Yes. You are welcome to stay in the Inquisition if you would like. No harm will come to you if you are truly here to help us. Thank you.” She nodded and turned to make her leave. She half felt like she was running out of the room as she marched her way quickly out of the Chantry. As the cold air of the night hit her, she breathed in deeply. She hadn’t realised how long she’d been in there. All her pent-up nervousness felt ridiculous now. It had not gone nearly as bad as she had anticipated. It had not resulted in her gaining any allies, but she could manage. As long as they were not trying to kill her, she would be fine. With another deep breath, she made her way slowly back to Solas’ cabin. Although realising it was now dark and he could be asleep considering the long journey they had today. And his notorious love of sleep. She grinned gently and made her way back to the circle of huts.

As she trudged up the stairs, she saw the light coming from his window so assumed it was safe to enter. Although she still knocked gently, tapping a small rhythm as she had so long ago. Back when he would lock himself studies with piles of scrolls and books, refusing to allow anyone to disturb his thinking. She had quickly learnt she was exempt from that rule. She’d once used the same pattern to tell him it was her so he could allow her in before he would seal the doors off once more. Just as it once had, the door opened after the final tap automatically, she flashed her teeth as she walked in to find him curled on the same chair with a book in his clutches. His eyes never leaving the pages as she made her way inside. She hummed in thought for a moment, deciding whether or not she should disrupt him before deciding against it. Instead, she went to grab the black-bound book from his desk, that she had left out earlier. Then made her way back to her bag, placing the book inside before making to stand up with it and leave. However, she was quickly interrupted as long arms wrapped around her midsection, tugging her upright, so her bag's leather straps fell from her fingers.

“And where do you think you’re going, ma’enlea?” She could feel his breath against her ear as she leaned back into his hold effortlessly. She sniffed slightly and chuckled as she smelt the tell-tale fermented grape on his breath.

“I was going to my room. You looked rather invested in your book, and I did not want to intrude. I had not realised you were having a party by yourself, ma’fen.” She twisted in his hold and turned to face him as he looked down at her with a smirk. His cheeks were ever so slightly rosy from the wine.

“It is not a party unless there is more than one participant. Join me.” With that, he stepped back, his hand grasping her wrist to pull her along with him. She laughed and followed him without resistance, however, they didn’t sit on the too-small armchair or even his bed to spread out. Instead, he grabbed the dark green bottle that rested on his small table before handing it to her. She took it with a raised eyebrow in question as he held his stained goblet before reaching for another that sat in a corner neatly. He grinned wolfishly as he turns her around and leads her through the door, back out into the cold of the early night.

“I borrowed them from the tavern. I will return them, though I doubt they are missed.” She laughed at his words. _Borrowed. Right._ Before she could speak, however, she felt him tug her back into a bush, pressing his large hand over her mouth as a soldier stumbled out of the said tavern. She tried to hold in her laughter as she watched the man try to walk back to his barracks, mostly failing; as he stumbled from left to right. Her eyes glazed back to the tavern that was lit brightly, singing and laughter were all that could be heard from the shelter. Pure warmth despite the freeze of the winds and dirtied snow that covered the ground around it. She then looked up at the elf behind her in confusion. He merely winked down at her before pulling her along the fence, they both weaved silently through the shadows of the night as they made there way passed the few remaining people who were not sleeping or drinking at the tavern. Finally, he pulled her behind one of the cabins and paused. She caught her breath as she looked back at him. Despite her confusion, she couldn’t keep the smile from her lips.

“Solas, where are we going?” Her voice was breathy and tinged in humour as her companion only shook his head and motioned with his index finger for her to turn around. She rolled her eyes at his evasive actions and did as he asked. She had not been prepared to feel him placed his hands on her waist, her breath hitch as he lifted her easily. Flushing pink, she quickly grabbed the sides of the fence and tugged herself up, carefully cradling the glass bottle to her chest as she did so. Her once pink cheeks turned burned bright red as she felt his hands squeeze her rear as he pushed her the final way. She tried to frown, but could only laugh quietly as she balanced on the fence, careful to avoid the pointed edges that surrounded her. She looked down at him and lowered her hand, as expected, she felt the cool metal of the cups stems in her hand as she brought them up to her. Her eyes scanned behind her, looking for any soldiers that were out patrolling. When she saw none, she nodded to him, to which he backed up slightly and launched forwards, one bare foot catching on the rope lacing the wood beams together before hoisting himself up beside her with minimum effort. She shook her head slightly.

“Show off.” She breathed quietly, to which he merely chuckled and they both scanned below them. They were crouched under a large tree, its leaves covering them effectively as they watched. Two soldiers ambled beneath them. Obviously complaining to one another as they made their way to the gates, the large doors opened as the two entered.

“Quickly, before the next watch comes through,” Solas muttered as he pushed her slightly; however, she hadn’t been paying attention. His slight tap had sent her off balance and falling rather ungracefully into the snow below. She panicked as she lifted a hand and encased the drinks and cups in a bubble of light blue magic, keeping them extended in the air as she flopped into a large pile of fresh snow. Instead of sympathy, she heard a short laugh from above her and a gentle thud to her side. She felt her magic dissipate when he grabbed the items from within. And she pulled herself up with a wounded expression.

“That was mean.” He laughed an apology before grabbing her hand once more, leading her away from the confinements of Haven, the wind masking their footsteps as they wandered off into the wilderness that surrounded them. Although she had to wonder how much of the wind was real or created. He’d still kept his old tricks. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the night, there was enough light reflecting from the glow of the moon for her elven senses to work. While brushing the cold snow from her hair, she followed him for a little while until they came into a clearing. Her footsteps slowed as she took in the wooden, rickety jetty. The frozen lake, glittering in reflection of the dark abyss above them. The stars twinkling against the icy surface. It looked as though you could jump into the night. It was beautiful. While she was taking in the view, she felt Solas stand behind her, his arms encircling her waist as his cheek rested on her head.

“Is it not breathtaking, ma’enlea?” She felt her cheeks ache with all the smiling she had been doing lately. Nodding slowly from beneath him, she leaned back. He chuckled slightly and crouched suddenly. She yelped as she once again felt herself fall; however, his arm caught her back, his other swooping her legs from beneath her as he pulled her to his chest with a grin—all glistening teeth as he turned her around to reveal a woollen blanket laid against the undisturbed snow. The large boulder to the side hides them from scouting eyes. The wine and goblets sitting neatly to the side. She smiled as she turned to face him, her arms encircling his shoulders as he began to walk to the blanket. She gripped him tightly, leaning in closer as she felt them both fall slightly as he sat down. His deep chuckle, rumbling against her fingertips, as he stretched out his legs, she released his shoulders and sat between his thighs, her head falling back to rest against his chest.

“What was all that about?” She gladly accepted the wine he offered as she began to take a sip, allowing the warm burn to slide down her throat and warm her.

“As accommodating as they have been, I doubt the soldiers or a particular advisor would be happy with the two elven apostates leaving their clutches so late at night. Who knows what kind of blood magic we could conjure up from beneath their noses?” His tone was humorous, but there was a truth to his words. She laughed gently and nodded.

“I suppose so. Although it all reminded me a bit too much of trying to escaping one of June’s atrocious parties.” A snort left the elven male as he tried to drink from his cup. She laughed louder as red dripped from the side of his lip, quickly swiped away by his tongue as he narrowed his eyes.

“Those… were much more desperate times than this.” She continued to laugh, his own low laughter joining hers as she thought back to those times.

“Do you remember the time you tricked him into wearing that ridiculous griffon feathered hat? The green one with bright pink stones?” She remembered the dark-skinned man, walking into his own crowded ballroom, the ridiculous thing perched confidently on his golden locks. Paired with none other than a bright white and green silk suit. Or the equivalent in their times. The signature golden bands of the evenuris still covered his forearms and neck. She had remembered the quiet giggles and comments from the party-goers. None of which had dared to say anything to his face, of course. She heard her wolf bark out a laugh, louder than the others. She grinned wider in delight.

“He wore it with such confidence, I don’t think it had the effect I was going for. Although, it did start that horrendous trend of green and pink feathers.” A giggle left her as she remembered all the young men and woman adorned in the ugly things. Yes, it was indeed a sight that caused sore eyes.

“Although had you worn them, they would have been the most beautiful thing to grace Thedas.” She flushed, and not due to the second glass of wine. Humming as she tried to think properly, her gaze lifting to his as his arm tightened around her waist.

“I doubt you remember what I even looked like at those parties. You were always surrounded by those pretty elves, no matter where you tried to go.” She grinned as his nose scrunched up lightly, recognition in his eyes. 

“Of course, I remember, I also remember you being always being accompanied whenever I managed to find you.” He teased her, she bit her lip and shook her head in denial.

“Mostly by guards who found me lost in those ridiculous mazes they called halls.” She laughed at herself as he chuckled along with her.

“Guards weren’t issued to stand alongside patrons, and many actively ran from them when possible. But there was always at least one hanging around you, ma’enlea.” His lips grazed the side of her ear, causing goosebumps to rise quickly. She swallowed thickly and felt her cheeks heat again.

“And they just as quickly ran when you would appear, ma’fen.” Her voice trailed lower than she had meant to, her head turning to catch his eyes on her. They were still a mesmerising shade of crystal, heat lingered beneath them as he grinned smugly. He pressed his long index finger to the bottom of her glass and pushed it up towards her. She gave him a look before lifting it to her lips and quickly downing the rest of its contents- heat blooming in her chest as she did. She was no longer accustomed to drinking alcohol, let alone large quantities as she once had been. Her tolerance was much lower now. She placed the goblet to the side as she watched him mimic her action. Before she could do anything else, he wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her up to his side as he laid back into the snow that was covered by the soft blanket.

“As they should have. I did not like to share.” His nose pressed into her neck as he tightened his arms around her. She giggled as the taste of wine still lingered on her tongue, she slides her arms around his shoulders and huddled closer to him, leeching off of his heat.

“Is that implying you do now?” Her tone was more daring as she smirked down at him. He flashed his own grin, although she could not see it, she could feel it against the bare skin of her neck. She shivered. The grin quickly turned to a frown as he pulled her closer, allowing their legs to tangle in one another.

“Are you cold? Would you like to return to your cabin?” She tightened her grip on the back of his tunic automatically.

“No. I want to be here.” He moved his head from her neck, instead looking over her face in thought, one of his hands rising. His curled his hand under her chin while his thumb pressed to it lightly, forcing her to look directly into his eyes.

“Stay with me, ma’enlea.” His words were soft. As soft as the first time he had spoken them to her. Such a distant memory. A smile filled her lips.

“Bellanaris.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft Solas is cute. I love writing it. Also, I told you—no concept of intimacy between friends and lovers. Or at least they refuse to acknowledge it.  
> Tell me what you think! Hope you Enjoyed!  
> \--  
> Translations  
> Andaran atish’an = I welcome you to this place of peace. (Formal welcome).  
> Ma serennas = Thank you  
> Ir abelas = I am sorry. Lit. I am sorrow.  
> Da’len = little one  
> Ma’fen = my wolf  
> Ma’enlea = my light  
> Bellanaris = forever


	8. Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and Aravae are found missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A rather short chapter today sorry. I’ve been crazy busy and started writing late. But I’ll have another chapter up tomorrow, naturally. Hope you enjoy!

Solas was the first to wake, the sun having crept high enough in the sky to glare through the trees' thickness above them. He stirred, his face turning into the body that laid beside him so he could escape the sun and will himself back to sleep. Although being reminded, there was someone next to him immediately dissolved that thought. A gently smile tugged at his lips as he lifted his hand from her side, careful not to wake her as she was curled almost entirely into his side, he raked the strands of hair that fell from her messy bun out of her face. She pressed her face up into his hand, seeing warmth as her eyes began to flutter open, revealing the deep green iris'. A sleepy smile soon graced her lips as she looked up to him and hummed quietly, leaning back into his hold. Hiding from the same sun he had been. He chuckled but allowed them to remain tangled together. They hadn't gone back into Haven last night. Instead, he had set up wards and heated the blanket with glyphs. However, his natural body temperature would have been enough to keep them warm, regardless.

Aravae sighed in content as she felt his fingers continue to play with her hair. A small part of her was disappointed she couldn't do the same to him as she'd once done, but instead, she raked her nails gently over his neck and chest, not wanting the moment to end. But of course, it must. It was he who eventually pulled away first.

"We should return. No doubt we have already been found missing." She almost laughed at the thought of distressed scouts running around in a panic and looking for them. Not wanting to tell their leaders that they had vanished. Although she doubted that was indeed the case. She sighed instead.

"Yes, I guess we should." The reluctance was evident as she remained sitting up, yet not making a move to stand as he did. He stretched out his tired muscles before turning to her once more, his gaze pulled into an affectionate smirk as he shook his head.

"Come now, ma'enlea. Before we are deemed traitors and hunted down." He offered his hands to her, which she gladly took and felt him pull her up without trouble. She huffed in dark laughter at his choice of words. It would not be the first time. Quietly, they packed up the small bundle of things, Aravae quietly gathering some sprigs of elfroot that littered the area, before they both set off.

"Sleep well?" Solas' voice was quiet as they walked through the fresh snow with ease, their fingers intertwining the longer they walked. She smiled briefly, remembering the small memories of grand parties and ridiculous outfits they had roamed through after falling asleep from the wine.

"Surprisingly, considering I had an intruder invade them." She grinned at him as he made a face.

"I did not. As I remember it, it was you who wandered into my memories." She crinkled her nose in thought, trying to remember the night, but it was hazy, and she wasn't sure who's memories they had been. They shared so many, it was hard to tell.

"I’m surprised you remember anything with how little wine left there is.” She lifted the green bottle in her other hand and swished it gently, a tiny drop of red swirled in the bottom. He huffed in annoyance, but she knew better as his face once again curled in a smirk. It wasn’t until they saw the soldiers training. They released each other’s hands, and both schooled their expressions into less jovial ones. They would look suspicious enough as it is. Walking back with only a blanket and wine glass. They quickly entered the gates and were immediately met with Varric’s cheeky grin as they ascended the stairs.

“Ah, the two lovebirds. Wonderful for you to have re-joined us.” Her cheeks flushed pink once more as she coughed.

“We are not- “Although she was cut off immediately as the dwarf waved his hands dismissively.

“I know, I know. Only friends. You might want to make that clear to the Herald though. And quickly. She’s been tearing up the place trying to find you both since realising Chuckles wasn’t in his cabin.” Aravae’s eyebrows furrowed together slightly at the admittance. She looked to Solas who seemed just as confused as her.

“Why does she require me?” Aravae was also curious, he had not mentioned the Herald looking for her as well. But before the dwarf could respond, there was a loud stomping heard to their right. Three heads turned in unison.

“And where exactly, have the two of you been?” Aravae felt herself frown lightly at the Herald’s tone. Was she really required to know such a thing? She would have expected Leliana to be curious, or even Cullen, but why did the Herald care so much that they were not in their beds?

“We were taking a walk and went meditating,” Solas stated calmly. However, the Herald’s eyes immediately turned to the empty bottle in the other elves hand. She raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“With wine?” Aravae also laughed at the disbelieving tone, but she held it back. She was confused about why this woman was so caught up on their whereabouts. Before Solas could reply, she interrupted.

“Forgive me, Herald, but why are our whereabouts important? Do you require us?” The easiest way to escape the interrogation was by distraction. The Dalish elf crossed her arms over her chest.

“I require Solas. We will be travelling to Val Royeaux to speak with the Chantry and try to gain favour. They’re our only choice at the moment. We will be leaving tomorrow.” The elf was straight to the point—something Aravae liked.

“Am I not required then?” She felt slightly offended. She was assuming Varric and Cassandra were going along, considering they had travelled to the Hinterlands together. Although perhaps that is why. They must have some trust in one another. She was still an outsider to all but Solas. And her lie had not gained any favours with the Herald it seemed.

“No. The party must remain small; we do not wish to cause a stir. We already have a rogue and mages.” With that the woman turned and left the group, assuming for the Chantry. Varric whistled lowly after she was further enough away.

“Sorry about that, Giggles. She’s been in a mood since this morning. Try not to take it too personally. If it’s any consolation, I would have gladly taken you along with us.” Aravae felt her annoyance leave her as she chuckled at the man.

“Giggles? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?” She jeered slightly, and Varric waved her away.

“Hey now, don’t be too judgemental. You are awful giggly, and you already knew Chuckles. It’s a win-win. Besides, it’s temporary until you’ve earned your real name.” She huffed in laughter as she nodded.

“By the way, what were you two doing out there?” She merely smiled.

“We were just spending time together. That is all.” Varric didn’t look convinced.

“If you say so. Although I don’t remember many midnights with a partner and wine ending in just _hanging out_.” The last part was muttered under his breath, although clearly meaning to be heard as he turned away from them, taking his usual spot by the fire. Aravae once again turned bright red at the implication. But before she could speak, she heard Solas chuckle darkly beside her. She turned to him immediately and pouted. He wasn’t helping.

“Come lethallan. Leave Master Tethras to his wild imagination.” He turned away to walk back to their quarters, and she followed in a huff. Trying to ignore Varric’s laughter in the background as she did. She let her mind wander until they made it back to the warmth of the cabins, Solas’ immediately raising a hand to light the fire without much thought as they entered. He seemed troubled, however as he took a seat, his eyes clouded in thought. She decided not to disturb him, he would speak when ready and instead looked for something to place over the fire. When she couldn’t find anything, she rolled her eyes. Solas had always hated tea, she wasn’t surprised he didn’t have something to make it. Instead, she walked to her own bag and grabbed a small pot, filling it with a little bit of water. She’d then made her way back to the fire and set it up where it could boil while she moved to gather more things from her bag. A small pouch of mixed herbs. She opened it and sniffed gently, and hummed in delight at the earthy scent that hit her nose. She grew slightly worried as time went on and Solas hadn’t said a word, the only sounds were the gently taps of his fingers hitting the wood of the chair, and the water bubbling. She took it from the heat and gently placed the pouch over a mug, filling it with the warm water and allowing the sweet aroma to swirl around her senses. She then placed the pot down and removed the pouch once the water had darkened to her liking. She grabbed the mug with two hands, her cold fingers thrumming in delight as she took a seat on his bed. Only then did he turn to her.

“I still cannot understand how you like that stuff so much.” His nose wrinkled in distaste which only caused her to laugh.

“Perhaps it would taste better if you didn’t overfill it with sugar.” She quipped back quickly as she brought the blend to her lips, sighing in delight at the taste.

“And remove the only ingredient that makes it bearable? Never.” A small giggle left her lips. Him and his ridiculous sweet tooth. Although she could not say much. She had stolen enough of his cakes and pastries previously. They both fell into silence once more as the elven woman turned her full attention on the man. Taking in his slightly furrowed eyebrows and frown.

“What troubles you, ma’fen?” If he did not wish to speak of it, he would tell her. Although she hoped he would. He seemed puzzled. A deep sigh left him as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“I am troubled by the Herald’s recent behaviour. Particularly towards you.” His eyebrows only furrowed further as he looked up to her. It was her turn to frown slightly.

“What was she like before me?” His eyes turned half-lid in thought, a brief quirk of his lips was all that he revealed.

“She was… intriguing. Curious. Always asking questions. She shares many of her kin's views, but she’s willing to listen to others. She would ask me about the fade, spirits, demons and magic. Her enthusiasm to learn was admirable.” His voice was as soft as the faraway look in his eye. She smiled briefly. Knowingly. Trust Solas to become charmed by anyone willing to hear him speak of the fade and spirits. Although it was a positive thing to hear. Many Dalish were very firm on their views and refused to listen to anything else. She had learnt the hard way, especially about their gods. She hummed slightly to herself, before breaking his trance.

“And had you told her how… intriguing she is?” He looked to her in thought, his head tilting, not unlike a confused hound which made her lips quirk in amusement.

“I informed her she had indomitable focus that was admirable.” Aravae almost felt her eyes disconnect from her sockets as they rolled back. _Silly wolf._ Instead, she merely laughed at him.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows again in apparent confusion until she gave him a look, disbelieving of his naivety. He sighed and leaned back into the cushioned chair. His hand coming to rest on his face, covering his eyes.

“I… It had been impulsive and ill-considered at the time.” She sighed at him and shook her head. Once a flirt, always a flirt. Even after thousands of years. However, as she chuckled to herself, a thought hit her harder than she would have liked. _Did he feel something for the Dalish woman?_ He had mentioned his dislike of the Dalish, similar to her own thoughts of them. But this one had seemed to crawl past his cold demeanour, in a relatively short time it appeared. She felt her heartbeat quicken, and suddenly it ached with unfamiliar feelings. She frowned and tried to think about what she felt.

Solas had had plenty of lovers. Fen’Harel was revered as a god, whether he welcomed it or not. He had always been undeniably attractive, and he was always a flirt. It was only logical that he’d never had issues with bedding anyone he fancied. It was the main reason she had picked up on the Herald’s behaviour. It had been evident jealousy. Something she was familiar with. Fen’Harel’s bedmates had always exuded it in her presence. It had never affected her so. Perhaps it was because she was Dalish. Someone she generally knew Solas would not find appealing. But this one had gained his attention. It caused an unwelcome tug in her chest. But she pushed it away. This was no different. He was her friend, he would not abandon her, even if he did seek out this woman further. Yes. That was it. She was scared of being completely alone again.

“I will speak with her tomorrow and clear this misunderstanding up. She should not treat another ally with such disdain over something as petty as jealousy. It is unbecoming.” It was Aravae’s turn to be confused.

“If you are interested in her, do not let my presence stop you, ma’fen. You could explain that we are close friends. I am sure she will understand.” The words twisted her heart in a way she actively chose to ignore. It was foolish. She was foolish. He would not disappear, simply because he had attentions for another woman. However, Solas stood instead of answering her. He knelt down in front of her, his hand grasping one of hers, while the other gently placed the cup down, allowing it to be handled as well. He raised the back of her hands to his lips, resting his elbows on his bent knees. His eyes glancing up to her own.

“I do not wish for someone who would treat you so poorly without understanding the situation first. I admired her because she treated others fairly, regardless of their race or beliefs. This has shown me that it is not entirely the case. She has stopped being curious and asking questions as soon as her perspective changed. Most of all, you are what is most important to me, ma’enlea.” His words were soft against her skin, and she couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her lips. The dread that clawed at her stomach, falling to pieces in a matter of seconds. Her earlier discomfort, forgotten.

“Ma serranas, ma’fen.” She felt him stand and pull her back to the chair with him. Curling into the position they were yesterday as they began to speak of other things. Enjoying each other’s company, knowing that they did not have long until they were once again separated. She was glad he would speak with her and quietly glad it was in refusal. However, a small part of her new that it would not be so easy. The Dalish were not known for their submission.


	9. Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas leaves and Aravae must entertain herself. WIth a book, maybe?

Tired green eyes travelled over the snowy grounds around her. She leaned heavily against the wooden frame of her door, debating if she genuinely felt like leaving her small warm room and into the progressively worsening weather. She sighed heavily as she convinced herself to be of some use to everyone while Solas was away. She would feel bad if she only took up space and resources while offering nothing in return. Especially since she was no longer required on missions. She huffed slightly in annoyance. All over simple jealousy. She wished her life could be so simple again.

The group had left along with the Herald almost four days ago now. They should be arriving in Val Royeaux today if they had no delays. Which ultimately meant it would be another five days before they returned if they were hasty. Aravae had taken to speaking with Adan, the apothecary in Haven. She had gone out collecting herbs and things he required, while also helping Master Dennett in an effort to not feel entirely useless. But after spending many months doing the same thing previously, she found herself growing bored all too quickly. Once upon a time, she had endless patience. One needed it in a world that lived forever. But this world was so much faster. So little time and so much to do. It was growing on her, the faster pace. It had been dizzying at first, detrimental decisions were made in seconds rather than weeks or months. It was all so new, and yet not. She had been awake for a decade—nothing in comparison to her long life. But a reasonably substantial time for the people around her.

The ancient elf sighed softly, trying to rid herself of how old she really was. She needed discipline. She was growing too neglectful, too free. With that in mind, she turned back into her cabin and grabbed her quiver that sat neatly in the corner, hiding away from anyone who would enter when she was not around. She buckled it quickly and smiled at the familiar weight. Grabbing her bow, she then returned outside and began to make her way to the front of Haven. Where the soldiers trained. She hoped they would not mind an addition for some hours. Training was the best form of discipline. Especially archery, she had found. It required some thought, although mostly muscle memory. It was a perfect way to clear her mind and focus. The sound of people fighting eventually drew closer, clashes of wooden and metal swords, shouts and cries of victory or defeat, grunts of pain and thuds of people being sent to the ground indelicately.

Her mind drifted to men and woman clad in gleaming gold armour, training in open green fields. She had loved to watch the sentinel’s train. They were made up of the greatest warriors in Arlathan. Each god had their own, usually as personal security or for their most sacred places. It was a wonder to watch them fight, precise and elegant. If she were to remember her people in simple words. Those would be it. Precise and elegant. She sighed as she pulled herself back to now. Would she ever stop comparing the two worlds? Unlikely. Eventually, she spotted a face she was bound to find, but felt dread at, nonetheless. He was who she sought, after all. The Commander stood in the middle of the training recruits, shouting orders and reprimanding others. They were new to fighting it seemed. Some had undoubtedly never even been in a real fight. That would be soon to change, she had no real doubt. There were things about this breach that did not add up correctly from what Solas had told her. How had it happened in the first place? Such a thing would require immense power. To tear such a large hole in the veil. Power she had not seen since she had first arrived in this world. She shook her head and reminded herself why she was here. Weaving effortlessly through the recruits, she made her way to the man clad in armour and fur.

“Commander.” She had almost called him knight-captain. It was no longer his title from what she had heard. He was no longer a templar. She would trust he stuck to that vow until he showed otherwise. The tall man turned to her, and surprise was evident on his face. He cleared his throat slightly and looked down to the board in his hands, clearly unsure of the situation. She almost felt pity for him. To try and appear less of a threat, she smiled gently and nodded her submission. This seemed to make him less fidgety.

“Ah… Miss. What can I do for you?” She almost wanted to giggle as he tried to search for the right words, trying not to offend her as he once had. She did not comment, however, saving him the embarrassment.

“I would like permission to use the archery range here, along with your scouts.” Permission to do things had been such an odd concept for her. She had lived in the purest sense of freedom for so long, that this was something she would never quite feel comfortable with. The Commander pressed his eyebrows flush together.

“Of course, you do not require my permission. I am not your… captor.” The word fell from his lips with disdain. She raised an eyebrow at the choice of words. Clearly, her lapse in composure at the meeting had stayed with him. She chose to nod her understand and turned to leave. Still, before she could, she felt a hand touch her shoulder hesitantly, before retreating immediately. Turning in question, she found the Commander much closer than she expected. A small part of her wanted to throw up a shield instinctively. Protection. But she refrained, only waiting for the man to speak. He opened and closed his mouth several times, before sighing heavily in frustration at himself.

“I apologise… for my earlier actions and words at the meeting. It had been a surprise to see you of all. My accusations were uncalled for.” He hung his head slightly, and she could not help the respect that builds in her for the man. She straightens, relaxing entirely as she offered him a small smile.

“Thank you. I understand your suspicion. It was not entirely unwarranted. But I do accept your apology, and I hope we can continue as equals.” This had clearly not been what he expected to hear as he looked to her in shock. Seeing her honest smile, he nodded slightly and cleared his throat once more before nodding in surety.

“Of course. We are grateful for your assistance, if you have trouble with anyone, please do not hesitate to inform one of us.” She nodded and turned once more, making her way to the row of targets. A small group of scouts were practising, but they did not take them all. Simply taking turns on a few at the end. Clearly jeering and laughing at one another. She slowed as she approached, already picking the furthest target from them in order to concentrate. Their jovialness was by no means unpleasant, it reminded her of someone as she listened. A tug pulled at her heart. The person who had taught her how to string a bow, how to drawback without straining the muscles in her shoulder too much, taught her how to release and not cause the string to thwack into her forearm painfully. She could remember the sting and dark purple welts that bruised her skin when she would mess it up. He would reprime her gently and heal it without a thought. She had suggested leaving it, as a reminder not to make the same mistake, but he would only laugh and flick her nose gently, telling her she was hard enough on herself already. She did not need a physical reminder. Her lips pulled into a sad smile as she looked away from the others and focused on her own target. He was no longer here. This was no longer her world.

The elf then pulled an arrow from her quiver, notching it quickly on the string of her bow before raising it and pulling back. She could still hear his voice in her ear. Whispering the instructions. _Check your stance. Straighten your back. Relax your shoulders. Aim. Draw. Breath in deeply. Release._ The arrow shot forth and dug deeply into the bright red centre of the target. She closed her eyes and tried to will the tears away. Why exactly had she wanted to train again? She could still aim properly. She had been doing it for long enough. What was the point? She drew another arrow and reshot it, this time it hit the hay-coloured ring, directly above the previous arrow. Focus. She needed to

focus. Feelings were becoming too strong. She felt as if she was drowning in her own grief, the voices of those she would never see again swum in her ears as she shot the next arrow. Again, it hit the next ring above the previous arrow, all three in a straight line. She breathed in deeply once more, trying to force the voices from her head. That was no longer her life. They were no longer here with her. She was alone.

_Thud._

She had nowhere to return to.

_Thud._

What was she doing here?

_Thud._

What use was she here?

_Thud._

What was her purpose?

_Thud._

She knew what it had been in Tevinter. But now it was warped.

_Thud._

Freedom.

She froze as she starred at the target. Nine arrows lined perfectly straight, each hitting directly in the middle of their respective ring. She sighed and rubbed her face. This was not helping her focus. She began to walk forward to collect her arrows before she felt a presence to her side. She turned suddenly, startled, and almost fell on her backside before two arms lifted and clasped her biceps. Stilling her gently. The woman that stood before her was short, only coming to Aravae’s nose. She wore the Inquisition uniform, but her hood was down and the helmets they seemed to wear beneath was nowhere to be seen. She had curly red hair, forced into a bun that barely seemed to hold the locks together. Her bright hazel eyes looked up at Aravae in nervousness as she bit her thin lips. Aravae quickly righted herself, allowing the other woman to remove her hands.

“Um. Sorry, Miss. Hadn’t meant to scare ya.” The human lifted a hand behind her neck and smiled awkwardly. Aravae tilted her head slightly, her eyes trailing to the group that she must have been apart of. They were trying to pretend they were not listening in, but their sudden silence was a giveaway. How long had they been silent? How long had this woman been standing beside her?

“My apologies. I was focusing a bit too much, it seems. What can I do for you…?” She let the question linger, silently asking for the recruits’ name to which she grinned and pressed her forearm to her chest and bowed slightly. Aravae blinked. That was definitely something she would not become familiar with.

“Anne, Miss. Sorry for intruding, but we couldn’t help but notice your shooting. Those are some remarkably well-aimed shots.” She could not help the pride that swelled in her chest. She smiled at the woman whose cheeks bloomed in red.

“And we was wondering if you’d… kinda… teach us? Only if you have the time, of course! We know you’re with the Herald, but since she’s gone, we figured you wouldn’t have a lot to do. Not that that’s a bad thing! We just… uh…” The woman’s face grew redder the long she spoke, her Ferelden accent growing stronger. Aravae was surprised it could. She, however, let the poor scout’s embarrassment end with a smile.

“If you wish, I’d be more than delighted.” At that, the lady and the group behind her all straightened up and grinned. They hurriedly grabbed their equipment and lined up by a separate target. She blinked in amazement at their eagerness. Her experience with others had been rather unspectacular when it came to trying to teach them things. But these recruits seemed more than eager. She hummed gently and moved to gather her arrows from her own target. Then she turned to them, her shoulders straightening in concentration.

“Would you like me to show you how I shoot or correct your current styles?” They all seemed to blink in confusion and looked between each other. She half wanted to laugh. Many simply taught by telling people how to do something. But people learnt differently, they picked up techniques in different ways. It was a rather lanky man at the end of the range that spoke up.

“Both?” The group chuckled somewhat and nodded their agreement, to which she smirked and nodded. She then motioned for them to come closer to her as she walked back to the imaginary marker she stood before. They moved closer as she began to notch her arrow.

“Alright, when training, it is best to focus on small details. As you will not get the chance when fighting. You will not have the time to think too much about how hard to drawback or if you’re holding your breath. All of which is crucial to mastering archery.” The group nodded silently.

“Your first thought should be your stance. You will rarely be lucky enough to fight on smooth solid ground. Still, testing where your centre of gravity is is crucial in knowing how to stand on any terrain. It also helps in not being deterred from a shot if something is to hit you in the meantime. Next is learning to draw in a way that will maximise how long you can draw for. Not every archer has limitless brute strength, so we train our bodies and limit the amount of strain we put on ourselves. Remaining a relax posture is key. It will also unnerve any opponent that is not as skilled with a bow.”

Along with her words, she spread her feet and twisted her body to face the group while raising her bow to the target. She drew back slowly to show them how easily she could do so before breathing in and releasing both her breath and arrow—a perfect hit. The group cheered good-naturedly. She chuckled and motioned for them to move back to their targets. Each one then tried to mimic her actions, with mixed results. Some did hit the centre of the target, others were still a bit off. She informed them to keep shooting so she could watch them, eyeing everyone’s style and making adjustments in her mind as she strolled behind them, concentrating. This was much more helpful in clearing her mind.

“You are too tense. When you release the arrow, it wavers under the pressure and moves off-target.” She stopped behind a man. He nodded in understand and when to adjust his posture, but he was still too tense. She gently placed her hand on his shoulders and pushed them down slightly. He followed her command and let out a loud breath.

“Now straighten your back.” He did as commanded and then aimed before letting the string go. The arrow landed with a dull _thud,_ and she watched as he grinned in pride. It hit. She smiled as well. On centre.

“Well done.” He nodded his thanks and continued, she then moved to the next person. By the time she had checked everyone and helped adjust their postures, they were shooting mostly bullseyes. They still required practice. Their limbs growing shaking after half a day of training. But they were doing remarkably well. She felt quite prideful of them. It reminded her of the children. She sighed at the thought. It was time to distract herself in other ways, clearly. She nodded to the recruits who all thanked her, either verbally or with a nod before she left.

Deciding to return to her room. Her head simply would not allow her to rest, but she had other things to do. Such as read the book Solas and leant her. She had been itching to read it, and so far, she’d only read what she remembered. The growing unrest between the gods, the threat of rebellion from their own brethren. The people going missing from their respective gods and the like. The fear of the Forgotten One's uprising. She remembered it all like it was yesterday. It had all been so close to her. Their world had always been doomed to fall the way it was. It had only been a matter of time. But she truly believed that this world was not the plan. She hummed gently and made her way inside the small hut. Lighting the fire with a wave of her hand as she curled up in Solas’ chair. She had stolen it from his own cabin. He didn’t need it at the moment. Her eyes drifted over the beautifully written scripture. Written in her own tongue. One long since forgotten. She wondered who had written it. She hummed as she quickly fell into the pages, finally getting to events she did not remember taking place. She must have been put to sleep by now. It was odd. To think, these events were happening around her. But it was necessary. She would not have survived otherwise. He knew that. Her head shook as she tried to focus on the words instead.

Many hours passed as she grew further and further concerned with the book in her hands. Her eyebrows pinched as a frown curled on her lips. She read of Falon’Din beginning a war for power, which ultimately ended in him being beaten by the other Evenuris. It was sad but unsurprising. It was not until she read of Mythals death did a loud gasp leave her lips. She felt unshed liquid brim in her eyes as she stopped reading. Her mind began racing. It was not that she did or didn’t particularly care for Mythal. She was the All-Mother. Seen as the true Goddess to all Elvhen. She would always hold some admiration. But Aravae knew her best as Solas’ friend. He had complained to her for centuries, and not even Mythal had escaped his ire at times. Those times she thought he was the most honest with himself. She had respect for the Goddess, but it was nothing sacred. She had kept slaves as well. Had burdened her people with submission. It was something that never honestly sat well with Aravae, and she had often wondered why it had not bothered Solas as much. He had been the voice of rebellion and freedom. He had also been her champion. She had given him life. Been his closest friend for so very long before Aravae had even known him. Perhaps it was jealousy. But she always felt that Solas was just as bound to her as those marked with _vallaslin._ Salty liquid began to rolls down pale cheeks, dripping against the black leather of the cover. Solas. She feared for Solas. He had lost her _and_ Mythal. In so little time. She gazed at the book, it was shaking. Or more specifically, her hands were shaking the book.

_They trusted Fen'Harel, and they were all of them betrayed. And Fen'Harel sealed them away so they could never again walk among the People._

She knew the stories the Dalish told. She knew they were wrong about so many things, but there was always an inclining of truth. When she had heard of Fen’Harel’s tale, she had been dubious. She had no doubt he tricked both sides. It was always his game. He had been walking both sides for so long that they were bound to get desperate at some point. But she hadn’t known Mythal _died._ Dread curled in her stomach as starred at the black cover in front of her. He had sealed them away. He couldn’t have killed them. Not alone. He locked them away. It was always his plan. But _how?_ He had never come up with a solution when she was awake. He had planned for thousands of years, locked himself away in studies, and ignored the world as he tried to find a way to seal them. It was just too difficult. To seal away mages who were so powerful, they were revered as gods. She pressed her lips together firmly and watched as her knuckles turned white around the binder.

_What did you do, Solas?_

She felt the tears fill her eyes, scared of reading more to find out. But she knew she had to. She had to understand what had happened. She knew whatever it was would be bad. Solas never dealt with emotions well. Never dealt with the loss of loved ones well. When the evenuris killed Mythal… they sealed their fate. And ultimately Solas’. She closed her eyes, feeling the tears roll. A hand came to wipe them away. Her stupid, prideful wolf. She sniffed and stood to grab a small rag that sat by the fire, drying. She wiped her tears and made to sit back down. The black book staring up at her from her feet. She sighed and grabbed it once more, flicking open the pages. _She must endure._

Her eyes scanned over the book once more, forcing herself to take in the letters. The events, once again became vague. The author obviously not knowing the specifics of the events. Not being close to the evenuris and merely recounting the tale from a philosopher’s perspective. She sighed as she felt her tears dry once more, continuing the book until it began to speak of Arlathan’s fall. She froze as she read the lines.

 _There were flashes of bright green light, an enormous wave that seemed to crash over them as sunlight would at first dawn. And as it passed, it left nothing but rubble in its wake. Our beautiful crystal cities fell from the sky. Spirits disappeared without a trace, and so had magic. Magic now required concentration and effort to pull forth, as if blocked by an invisible force. Others remained void of it. Unable to access their talents at all. It was the first true fall of Arlathan._ _There are many recounts of how it happened. But all pointed to Fen’Harel. He who had vowed revenge for their All-Mother, and in doing so, had forsaken us all._

She let the book fall unceremoniously from her hands and onto the wooden floor. Her hands grasping at her head, tightening into the brown waves of loose hair. She wanted the tears to fall. Wanted to be heartbroken and surprised. But she could not. For she was not. He had created the veil. That was their punishment. Complete separation from what gave them power. Separation from what fuelled their greed. She sighed heavily as she stared at the book scattered on the floor. She needed to speak with him. She had so many questions. Had he known? In all his grief, had he known this is what would happen? Had he planned for their world to fall to pieces? To steal their people's immortality and had them over to Tevinter as slaves for creators knows how many centuries until they became the pitiful shadows of The People. _Did he know?_

She felt rage and sorrow, confusion, and restlessness. She needed to know. His answer would yield her responds. She doubted. She doubted he knew what he was doing, what it would cause. He loved his people. But he was always so blinded by pride and purpose. She laughed bitterly at those thoughts. Pride and desire. It would burn them both in the end. For they would always be their sins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo, plot. Nice. I’m curious as to other people’s opinions on Mythal. Is she good or bad? Or is she more like Solas, a good for bad or bad for good? I’m not sure. I’m always on the fence about her. She’s definitely a grey area for me. But I’m so excited to get to Solas and Aravae’s plot. Which coincides with the Inquisition plot, naturally. 
> 
> P.S. I promise Solas shall be back tomorrow.


	10. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas returns and Aravae has questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos. Even just the readers who ghost in. I see you. I love you too. 
> 
> Italics is spoken in ancient Elvhen.

She watched as half a dozen children ran around the snowy landscape with bright, gleaming smiles. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched them gather herbs and race around. Making childish bets and teasing one another as they did. She had promised Adan she would go collect some more since Leliana had informed him they would be returning to the Hinterlands soon. Aravae was pleased with the Inquisition using its resources to help the refugees out there, mostly because she was no longer there to collect herbs for them, their recourses would have been depleting for some time now. She was planning to simply leave and gather the herbs herself, but she had passed some children loudly complaining about being bored to their assumed mother, she couldn’t help but chuckle as the older woman smirk and placed her hands on her hips. Telling them they could help with cooking, or washing, or any other work that was needed doing. At that, the children groaned but didn’t say another word. It was then she decided to speak with the woman, asking if the children would like to leave to collect herbs and run around outside the camp for a while. The woman looked unsure, but the kids immediately jumped up and nodded, telling their mother they could bring other names she didn’t know. The older woman caved quickly and looked to the elf, asking if she would be okay with it. Aravae had nodded and waited for the kids to gather their friends before departing.

It seemed the children had not been allowed to run around for quite some time as they immediately began doing so as they passed the training soldiers. The elf couldn’t help but giggle and follow them, focusing more on making sure no one got lost rather than collecting. The children were more than eager to do so anyway. The children branched off in pairs, betting who would collect more until there was a loud yell from further ahead. She watched as the other two groups suddenly ran to look at what was going on. Aravae followed closely behind, making sure they were all there before she saw them stand at the side of the dirt road and begin waving widely with even brighter smiles. She stood behind them all and looked down the road curiously, only to see four familiar faces trotting down the road. She smiled as well and began to wave gently as they came closer. She children excitingly whispered about the Herald as she roamed closer. The group soon came close enough to see properly. Varric was laughing and waving just as excitedly back at the kids, as was Ellana. Cassandra even had a small smile, despite trying to hide it. She looked back to the last member, his eyes already on her with a warm gaze. She looked down, breaking the gaze. Her heart thundered against her chest; she was excited they were back. She had missed them. Missed him. But she had questions. Questions that needed answering, but he would be tired. They had been travelling for so long, and she would not be so impatient to discomfort him. It was already going to be a difficult conversation. It would be best if he were in a good mood. Perhaps she could speak with him in the Fade? He was always calmer there. She hummed and turned her gaze down to the hand that tugged at her wrist.

“Yes, da’len?” The young girl looked confused at the name but smiled anyway, pointing to the Herald.

“Can we go back with them?” She looked to the others who nodded just as eagerly. She huffed a laugh and nodded, placing her hand out for the herbs they gathered. Their bets were long forgotten in their excitement. She grabbed a small leather piece from her pouch and tied the bundles of elfroot and spindleweed together. Watching as the children walked with the horses, and the Herald spoke with them animatedly. Varric chiming in with short stories causing the children to beam in delight as they all walked to the village. She felt a horse stop by her side and looked up to meet Solas’ eyes. He offered her a hand which she took gingerly and felt him pull her up. She yelped slightly and latched onto his shoulders as he pulled her up in front of him, her legs dangling over the side of the horse as he clicked his tongue and began to walk once more behind the group. She hummed and leaned back into him. Feeling him physically behind her, his heat seeping through her armours was calming. She sighed. She needed answers. But she quickly realised, either way, she would remain by his side. He was all that was left of her world, regardless of if he was the cause of that or not. He was still her closest friend.

The group eventually came to the horse pen, all dismounting as the children ran back into the village. Aravae remained back, lifting herself onto the pen's wooden logs as she watches Solas’ care for his horse. She smiled and laughed as she felt something press against her back. She turned and looked to the horse she had cared for since the Hinterlands. Her braid had been brushed out by now, but she remembered the face. She raised a hand and gently pet the horse who snorted in approval. Eventually, she turned to see Solas staring at her once more, his horse having been returned to the pen. She smiled and pressed a kiss to the horses’ snout before hopping off of the fence and walking to his side.

“How was your journey?” She walked slowly beside him; his pace much more exhausted than he looked.

“It was… eventful. The Chantry was as welcoming as expected. Although the Templars have decided to become complete brutes.” His voice sounded strained, heavy with annoyance which caused her eyebrows to furrow gently. She would not question it yet, it seemed to bother him.

“Is that the reason you were held back?” They had been late by three extra days. She had worried, half tempted to try and contact Solas through the Fade but thought better of it. It was also half the reason her anger and frustration had subsided somewhat. The thought that he had been in trouble, serious trouble… it had made her realise just how much she couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving now. Not after she just found him. She would deal with the response as required, but she would remain at his side.

“No, it seems the Herald’s reputation proceeds her. We had two… individuals request to join the Inquisition.” She looked at him frowning, unsure why he seemed so upset with the idea.

“And it’s bad for people to want to join, because…?” She pried lightly, which only caused him to sigh. They had made it to his cabin during their conversation. He opened the door and began removing his bag and jacket in a familiar routine. Placing the items back in their rightful spots.

“It is not. It does not mean I will agree with everyone that joins.” He was huffy and deflective. She smirked and shook her head, wondering what kind of people they could be that it annoyed him so.

“And what exactly is it that the wolf does not like?” He gave her a look, his frown clear as she grinned at him, teasingly. He went to respond before he paused suddenly, his eyes roaming over the room in confusion.

“Did you steal my chair?” She paused and followed the sudden derailing of the conversation. Pink tinged her cheeks. She mumbled slightly and crossed her arms.

“You didn’t require it.” Solas’ scoffed in disbelief before turning to leave the cabin towards hers. She sighed and decided to follow him. Amused by his behaviour. Clearly, the last week had been grating on his nerves a bit too much.

“I’m glad you still enjoy stealing my things.” Her turn to scoff at him caused him to grin for the first time since returning. She turned away from him and moved to the other cabin that resided next to them. Knocking gently, she entered to find Adan curled over a table, vigorously shaking a bottle of red. At the same time, a scout stood behind him, trying to speak while the healer seemed to ignore. She felt her lip quirk in amusement. Trust, Adan. The patience of a nug. The two heads turned to her as she entered.

“Ah! My favourite elf! Did you manage to get some?” She almost snorted. She’d be surprised if he remembered her name. She lifted the bundles of herbs for him to see, which caused him to huff in delight. Not quite enough for a smile, it seemed.

“Just place them on the chest there, and you, there. Take your bloody elfroot to Mother Giselle.” She shook her head in amusement as the recruit frowned and nodded, following his orders. Aravae then began to walk back to Solas’ cabin, seeing as her own door was once again shut and heavy footprints were seen from her door to his own. She tapped the door as usual and entered, ready to try and gather more information on the new member that seemed to annoy him, but as she entered, she saw him sitting on the chair with a familiar black book in his hands. His thumb trailing over the glittering gold title along the spine of the book. His hands were trembling. Barely. But she could see the slight shake of the book as it had once done in her own. She stood by the door, her mood sobering as she waited for him to speak. The emotion almost swirling around him visibly. It made her hopeful.

“ _You read it.”_ His voice was thick—Low, a whisper that she wouldn’t have been able to hear if she had been human. There was so much emotion in those few words. Sorrow. Regret. Remorse.

“ _Vin.”_ She tried to keep her voice even. It was a discussion that needed to happen for both of their sakes. He tensed and swallowed audibly, standing slowly so he could place the book on the wooden table between them. His head hung, not meeting her eyes as he stepped closer to her. She felt her heart begin to beat faster with each step, the hairs on the back of her neck stood tall as he finally stood before her. It was moments like this; she remembered just how tall the man was. How much broader he was compared to the elves of this time. Not as much as a human, but far more than a modern elf. She swallowed silently, her eyes lifting to his own, not having realised she had lowered her own as well. She felt frozen as they connect with his own blue iris’. They seemed darker as they swirled with emotion.

“ _And?”_ He was close enough that his breath fluttered over her skin. She shudders and opens her mouth to speak before there was a loud knock behind them. They both froze, staring at one another. Different, yet similar thoughts rushing through their minds. Solas took a step back, instantly destroying the tense atmosphere as Aravae sigh heavily and turned to the door, opening it quickly. Wondering what was so important that someone required Solas so soon after returning. _Probably, the Herald._ The thought was far more bitter than she had liked. Her eyes clenched slightly in annoyance. She had forgotten about that talk after so much had happened in the last week.

Another thing they would have to speak of. She heard a voice clear from the doorway. She refocused and found Anne standing before her. Her tell-tale unruly red curls giving her away immediately. Aravae forced herself to smile. The human did not deserve her ire.

“Ah, Anne. Do you need Solas?” Said man remained behind them, possibly too close to Aravae to seem innocent; however, the scout did not seem to notice or merely ignored.

“Errr, actually Ma’am. Was lookin’ for you. The Herald is back, and you weren’t in ya room so I thought,” the scout cleared her throat in embarrassment, “well I thought you’d be ‘ere and I was right. The men want to know if you’ll be joining us for training, y’know, since Herald is back and all.” She coughed slightly, and her left hand came to rest on the back of her neck, not unlike the first time they had spoken. Aravae smiled warmly and turned her head back to Solas slightly, she made to refuse before Solas spoke up first.

“She was just on her way, sorry to keep her from you.” Dark eyebrows furrowed slightly in question as she turned completely to the man. His posture was straight and expression as neutral as it was around everyone. He looked like they’d been discussing some less important matter before they were interrupted. But his eyes told her otherwise. The dark swarmed just beneath the surface, and she went to speak once again before he cut her off with a desperate sound.

“ _Sathan._ ” Her resolve crumbled as she nodded at the recruit and Solas, leaving the cabin with the other woman and made her way to her own in order to grab her bow. The woman seemed slightly uneasy beside her.

“Eer… you didn’t have to come, Ma’am. If you have other matters…” Aravae merely smiled, allowing herself to relax now that she was out of his presence once more. She shook her head at the woman as she remerged from her room.

“It is fine, Anne. Merely an argument between friends. It would do me well to have something to shoot.” At her words, the human laughed freely and nodded, eagerly agreeing. The awkward stance quickly dissipated as the two marched through the village with a destination in mind. She wondered how many there would be today. After her first lesson with the recruits, she had returned the next day to find them all back, seemingly waiting for her. Only this time there were a few more. And it repeated each day a few more scouts gathered, even some rogues who did not use a bow as their primary weapon. _Never know when it’ll come in useful, Ma’am. And we were told you’re the best teacher._ She felt pride in herself and her recruits. Although she wasn’t sure when they had become hers in her mind. She hummed to herself, entertaining the thought until they finally arrived at the range. Almost two dozen scouts loitered around, laughing and talking with one another until she came.

“Alright, fella’s, into position. The captain is here.” It was one of the lads from their first session. The one she had corrected initially. He had a grin on and had begun referring to her as captain not long after that session, something which had apparently stuck with the group. It was no official title, more of a joke between comrades. She smirked in amusement and made her way closer and instructed them to begin shooting, she would watch, evaluate, and change as required for each recruit. She let her mind focus on this. He would come to her when he was ready. And hopefully, she would be prepared.

\----

\----

She was helping one of the last recruits when she felt eyes on her. Not the usual, many of the scouts and even some of the soldiers training had watched her as she corrected people’s stances, fixed their aim, and guided them to shoot. She supposed it was odd to see an elf so readily helping others. But they were in need of good soldiers and good teachers. So, her help was never criticised. At least not openly. Her head turned to look towards the gates as the scout readied themselves to take the shot. Her eyes taking in the sight of Solas leaning against the trunk of a large tree, just before the range. His eyes trained only on her as she worked. She shuddered briefly, knowing that there would be no more prolonging the conversation once they were alone. At least… unless an emergency happened. Unlikely in their little winter cottage in the mountains. She proceeded to help the last of the recruits, never feeling his gaze leave her. Once she had been thanked by the last recruit, she nodded to everyone and made her way over to him. But he was no longer there. Barely footprints in the snow where he once stood. She sighed and rolled her shoulders, trying to relax as she made her way to the cabins once more. It was time.

She paused outside of his door, her knuckle raised ready to tap, but she hesitated for the first time in her life. She felt annoyance swell in her. Why was she so afraid? It wasn’t like he would push her away because she now knew… right? He wouldn’t do that to her. Dread filled her gut. Her Solas’ wouldn’t have destroyed the world either. Closing her eyes, she didn’t knock, instead grabbing the handle and stepping into the room. It was darker than she anticipated, the fire not lit as Solas’ form leaned against the windowsill, his gaze fixed outside. She closed the door slowly behind her and stepped further into the room, stopping as she came to the table in the middle. 

It was becoming last light outside, the suns rays lowering over the horizon, leaving them in dimming light. It pooled through the single window and yet left most of the room in shadow. She couldn’t read the look on his face, and that’s what made her most nervous. Solas could be stoic. He was so around all of the others. But not her. Even when he tried to be, she knew his tells. A lifetime together made it hard to build a mask. It didn’t seem to matter now. His face was made of stone. All hard with sharp edges, his eyes narrowed, and his ears dropped slightly. She would usually find it cute. Now it was unnerving. She didn’t make a sound, instead watching him, once again waiting for him to speak again.

Eventually, he turned his icy gaze to her, she couldn’t help the goosebumps that crawled up her arms and over her neck. It was not the snow that made the room feel so cold. He walked to her once more, his steps slow as if allowing her time to move away or refuse him. She did not. She remained stuck in her place, her heart beating in her ears as she remembered their earlier encounter. He stopped just as close. His warm breath fanning over her face as she looked at his neck, not trusting herself to look into his eyes so close. But long, thin fingers curled around her jaw, the touch hot despite the cold aura that surrounded him. A stark contrast. He brought her face up to meet his own, his clouded eyes searching her own.

 _“You would let the destroyer of your world so close? You let the God of Betrayal touch you.”_ His voice was barely a whisper. But she could still hear the pain. The sorrow that drenched his every word. He tried to hide it. Tried to force it back, but she knew him.

 _“I would let my friend touch me. My friend who is God of Rebellion. Of freedom. No other.”_ She felt the tears began to prickle in her eyes, refusing to fall as she watches him. Her own voice barely above a whisper as they stood so close. His eyes closed in pain, his forehead pressing to hers as he exhaled loudly through his nose, the hand on her cheek growing firmer.

 _“Your friend is no god.”_ She felt the tears fall as her eyes closed.

 _“And yet he has changed the world. Created something new.”_ She felt warm liquid hit her face, this time, not her own. She opened her eyes to see small lines on his cheeks, his eyes squeezed shut as his mouth pulled back in a snarl. Pain.

 _“Could you forgive him?”_ The question was quiet. Almost quiet enough that even she could have missed it had she not been staring at his lips when he spoke.

 _“Did he know?”_ The question burned in her mind. It had been haunting her since she read that damned book. Since she had learnt of his actions and waited for him to return. The one question that seemed to sear her every thought. He opened his eyes and stared at her, tense as he took in the sight of her tears, streaming down her face. Her usual plump lips pressed into a thin line as if to hold back her words. Emerald’s darkened in emotion as she stared up at him, in something akin to fear. Not of him, he knew. His answer. At that, he shook his head gently, refusing to let her go in case she never allowed him to touch her again.

 _“Did I know creating the veil would sentence my people to death? To destroy the world, I tried so hard to protect. No. It was my greatest mistake. I slept as the world I knew crumbled to pieces, my people lost everything, their magic, their immortality, their pride. This world is my fault. Could you forgive that?”_ It was then she felt her legs give way from beneath her, all the tension she had built from days of wondering and thinking. Questioning his motives and actions, his thoughts. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his curl around her waist quickly, keeping her from hitting the floor as she felt herself lean against him wholly. Her grip only tightened as she felt them both fall for a moment. The solid _thud_ as his knees hit the ground, her own weight adding to it. She felt herself wrap around him, unable to be close enough as he did the same, his hand smoothing down her hair while the other remained around her waist. Her legs bent on either side of his thighs as she sat atop his lap, her face pressed into his neck as she left her tears to fall freely. The sun had long since disappeared, leaving them embraced together in darkness, yet their elven eyes could see all.

 _“I will always be here, ma’fen. I will always forgive your mistakes. You are no god, and every man has made their mistakes. Do not burden yourself with them alone. They will only destroy you further.”_ She felt him shudder beneath her hold, wetness covering her shoulder where his face laid. She curled her own hand over his head, stroking the shaven skull. Suddenly it made so much more sense. Hair had more significance to Elvhen than simple vanity. It was their pride, their honour. Male and female warriors alike would braid their long locks in pride. Their prowess in battle. Their victories. It was common for men to shave the sides, but they would keep some part long. Shaven heads meant defeat. Meant disgrace. Her poor wolf had been both. Losing Mythal, then his world. Branded a traitor for her vengeance. She swallowed thickly and lifted her hand, pressing it to his cheek as she looked down to face him, his eyes eventually meeting her own. Full of pain yet hopeful.

 _“Share your burden with me, Solas. I am here.”_ As the words left her lips, she felt him shift forward. The warmth of his arm around her waist slipping away and returning to her face. His hands warmed her tear-streaked cheeks as his lips pressed against hers. Not a single thought passed her mind as she leaned into him, her arms tightening around his neck while her hands scraped against the nape. With both their eyes shut, the warmth of his lips was all that guided her. She felt his lips part and her own followed naturally. They could both taste the salt of their tears as they held one another close, their emotions running unguarded in the darkness of a small cabin hidden in the snowy mountains. They both breathed deeply as their lips parted, mixed hot breath fanning their faces as their foreheads pressed to one another. Neither eyes opened as he whispered.

_“I do not deserve you, ma’enlea. But stay with me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho boy. So. I hadn’t actually planned for them to kiss anytime soon but. Emotions. What can ya do?  
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Translations:  
> Vin = Yes  
> ma'fen = my wolf  
> ma'enlea = my light  
> Sathan = Please.


	11. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, it's a bit filler but does hold some vital plot points. I'm currently sick so the fact I managed to even write this makes me feel somewhat accomplished. Enjoy!
> 
> Ancient elvhen is written in Italics.

**Thud. Thud. Thud.**

One head popped up almost instantly at the loud noise, a yawn almost immediately taking hold of her as she made to sit up. Her head was fuzzy as she half-heartedly tried to look for the side of the bed to get up. It wasn’t until she felt two strong arms encase her waist did her mind began to piece together vital information. She chuckled softly as she felt a face nuzzle into the side of her head.

“On’dhea, ma’enlea.” A raspy-voiced yawned quietly into her ear. She grinned and returned the greeting. She allowed herself to be pulled back into the warmth of the furs and lean body she had previously been laying against. The other seemed more than content with the decision as his arms tightened around her, keeping her from escaping his grasp. She hummed gently in the protective, warmth willing herself back into the fade.

**Thud. Thud. Thud.**

“For creators’ sake Solas, if you’ve run off with that elf again.” A feminine voice hissed from the other side of the wooden door. Muffled and almost incoherent if they were anyone but themselves. She heard an exaggerated sigh in her ear as she felt the man sit up this time. Pulling her with him in the process as she had been laying over his chest.

“Fenedhis.” She couldn’t help but chuckle as he rubbed his eyes, trying to will life back into himself. She soon realised something was pressing into her stomach and looked down to see the wolf jaw pressing firmly into her thin linens. She yawned as she looked over them both, memories of the night before dawning on her. She smiled softly and stood up, stretching out before reaching for her armour that’d been left on the chair haphazardly. After their emotional _chat_ , it had been late, and neither wished to be apart. Solas, most importantly, had coherence her into staying with him. Not that she had really been fighting. The thought of leaving to go to her own room as her eyelids drooped was less than appealing. Instead, she had stripped from her armours, and they’d shared a bed instead. It had not been the first time. Nor had it been the first time a particularly emotional conversation had led to such… _endeavours._

“I am coming.” Solas’ voice was raspy with sleep as he called out to the door, hearing more shuffling and not wishing for her to storm away and find Aravae once again missing from her room also. He stood from the bed too and stretched out his long limb. His reach high enough, he could have pressed his hands to the lower sections of the ceiling. He straightened his clothes and walked to the door, opening it with a completely neutral expression. Aravae continued to place on her armour, quickly. It only took moments before she was kneeling by the fire and heating water. Solas had been standing by the door for the last few moments, his frame obscuring anything from within being seen.

“May I come in?” The words were more forceful than she would have imagined, more a demand than a question. After a second of hesitation on Solas’ part, he nodded.

“Of course, Aravae is making tea, if you would like some.” Ellana’s bright smile seemed to dampen at the words, blue eyes falling onto the elf pulling a pot of water from the fire. Aravae smiled at her and nodded her welcome.

“Would you like some?” She pulled the mug she had claimed for tea and went to grab another, the Herald not responding. She wanted to sigh at the awkwardness that suddenly permeated the air.

“What are you doing here so early?” The Herald’s voice was curious, her eyes flickering between Solas and Aravae. The two elves almost sighed. Having nearly identical thoughts on the matter. It would do no good to explain they had been spending most of their nights together. Especially the last. Her cutting tone already hinting at her underlying temper.

“Solas and I were discussing a book he leant me on spirits. And it is hardly that early.” She wasn’t lying. They had discussed it. More what the book represented, but it was believable. Plus, the sun poured through the single window, lighting up the room brightly. It was well passed when they would usually rise. Ellana’s expression seemed to soften, accepting the answer.

“Do you share his views then, about spirits not being demons?” Pouring the water into her own glass, she took a seat at one of the wooden chairs by the table. She wrinkled her nose slightly. They were dreadfully uncomfortable. From behind the Herald, she saw a slight smirk on Solas’ lips before it disappeared just as quickly.

“Yes. I believe everything to do with the fade is much more complicated than shemlen have made it seem. Although it is not without its dangers, not everything that resides in the fade is trying to kill you.” Aravae was pleased with the young woman’s question.

“The Dalish are taught that all spirits are evil. Even if some are not, is it worth the risk to interact with them instead of killing them, or banishing them? You could become possessed, an abomination. You risk the lives of all those around you.” The woman’s teachings were obviously strong despite her willingness to consider others opinions.

“Perhaps if you did not try to know them personally. I suppose it is much like us killing the rebel templars or mages. We do not know them. It is easier.” Her words seemed to strike a chord in the elven woman. Blue eyes narrowed slightly; a frown evident on her lips.

“We did what we must.” It was defensive. Aravae merely smiled politely.

“I did not say otherwise.” There was a flair in the Heralds' eyes, her temper remerging despite Aravae trying to reach a mutual topic. It had not worked. Instead, Solas chimed in.

“Ellana, did you need me for something.” Her flame seemed to subdue as she was reminded of her reason for visiting at all. Apparently, it had not just been to see Solas. Aravae pinched herself at the thought.

“Both of you, actually. We will be returning to the Hinterlands. I trust Solas has updated you on what happened in Val Royeaux. We will be meeting with the head of the mage rebellion. We leave in three days.” The two elves nodded before the Herald stood suddenly and made her way out. Pausing at Solas’ side to say something before shaking her head and leaving. A sigh escaped the female elf as the door shut. She watched as Solas relaxed slightly and sat down with her.

“I trust you spoke with her then.” Despite the rockiness, the Herald had not openly insulted her at least. The man seemed to sigh and nod somewhat hesitantly.

“It came up. Rather abruptly.” Aravae raised an eyebrow to which Solas heaved a heavy sigh.

“She was… less than subtle. In her advances during the trip. Even Master Tethras had quipped at it.” The thought almost made her laugh. Although it still did not explain why Solas seemed so uncomfortable with the attention.

“You seem troubled by it.” She chose her words carefully, not wishing to upset him about the matter further, although she doubted she would. He frowned and nodded once more, his eyes lowering to the ground before his cheek dusted a light pink.

“You must understand by now that their customs on such things are not as… fluid. As ours once were. Are.” Her eyes followed his to the ground, realising he was staring at where they have rather unceremoniously collapsed last night… among other things. Her cheeks turned pink as well. Although, the feeling was rather like looking back on a positive memory than any real embarrassment. It was not uncommon for friends to be… physical in their time. As it was for humans or even their own in this age. Bonding for life was a very serious commitment when your life lasted forever. Relationships would form, last for centuries and then fizzle away with time naturally. Many simply remained as close friends, choosing few as lovers without committing to anything. Even she had chosen a few lovers in her time. Although, despite the gossip at the time, Solas had never been one. Sure, they had shared kisses, but that was never considered scandalous as it would have now. She sighed softly. Another part of her culture that would remain lost.

“I see.” It suddenly became much more clear to her. Ellana would have demanded something sacred from Solas, without realising exactly what she was asking of him. She would have ordered bonding, singular attention, a lifetime commitment. And in doing so, Aravae would no longer be allowed so close to him. She frowned at the thought. Shemlen were so complicated with their short lives and puzzling cultural needs. She deemed the relationship between the two elves impossible, they were simply too distant. Their worlds too far apart. Maybe if Aravae had not survived as he once thought. If he had no real connection to his past life, he would have been forced to conform to their standards, their way of life. But it was not so.

“Yes. Although I fear my distance and refusal has not been as, effective as I would have liked.” The man pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes, trying to wipe away the weariness. She couldn’t help but smile sympathetically at him. He had put this on himself. His flirtatious side had always gotten him into trouble. Now was no different, and he would have to learn to deal with the consequences. She stood silently, leaving her empty cup as she stepped behind him, her arms wrapping along with his own as she leant over his hunched frame.

“She will learn, ma’fen. She is a Dalish woman. They do not take defeat so easily.” The words rolled off her tongue naturally. The elf beneath her sitting up straighter, his head falling back so he could look up to her. She grinned down at him, feeling his head rest against her bosom as he leaned back, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Does that make you victorious, ma’enlea?” His voice was teasing, his eyes closed as she hummed from above him.

 _“I am always victorious when the trickster is on my side.”_ She quoted an old elvhen saying. All of the modern phrases cursed Fen’Harel, but it had once been a great blessing to be considered his kin. She felt his smirk widen, despite the sadness she saw when he opened his eyes once more.

“He has always been on your side.” She smiled at his words and placed her lips on his forehead gently before pulling away from him. She paused as she considered her following words.

“Do you have any duties to attend to today?” Solas looked up at her with a raised brow.

“Not that I am aware of. Did you have something in mind?” She nodded slightly hesitant, to which he seemed confused.

“Whatever it is, Aravae. I can help.” She huffed in silent laughter, knowing that he could. She was simply embarrassed by the request. She felt the words pausing at the tip of her tongue.

“Could you help me with my magic?” She looked to the floor, not wishing to see his response. She knew it was childish. He would not care. In fact, he was more likely to be delighted. But she felt insecure at the fact accessing her magic had been so difficult for her since she woke. She could only access it for short periods of time. Glyphs and runes were accessible because they could be cast over some time. But she could no longer fight well with her magic. It was clunky and inelegant. It did not flow as it once did. She had been trying to for ten years, and here he stood, barely a year from waking, and he seemed to have complete control. He was not as powerful as he once was, not nearly. But he still had immaculate control of it. In her musings, she had not noticed him walk to her and lift his hand to force her to look up at him. A grin curled on his lips.

“Nothing would bring me more pleasure, da’len.” She flushed pink at his words. Yet her eyes narrowed while her own smirk grew on her lips.

“Nothing, Hahren?” His teasing grin turned wolfish as his eyes gleamed dangerously. The distance between them suddenly feeling much smaller as they stood staring at one another. Daring. As he opened his mouth to comment again, she stepped back abruptly. Breaking their game. He gave her a look and shook his head. She grinned and turned from him, making her way out of the cabin before he could stop her. He huffed and quickly grabbed his coat and staff. Leaving behind his bag for once.

“I wonder if the blacksmith has any spare staffs. I have not carried one since Arlathan.” She muttered quietly to herself as Solas quickly caught up to her pace. She half lamented how tall he was compared to her. She’d never been able to outrun him. At least, not without help. She grinned at the memory that flashed through her mind.

_A hand stretched out in an offer; the body that accompanied it bowed in exaggeration with his other arm swept to the side with flair. She laughed briefly between breathing in deeply for air. She had sprinted from Solas’ study all the way to the main hall, knowing it would not take long for him to gather his bearings and begin chasing after her. She gratefully accepted the new man's hand as he looked up at her with a feral grin. She took in the sight of haphazardly bunned hair, littered with feathers and pieces of gold. The sides shaved down in the traditional Arlathan style. Mythal’s branches coated a vibrant white that only stood out against his heavily tanned skin more. But it was the purple eyes that glittered in mischief as he pulled her against him that made her smile widen._

_“Is this how you greet all the women who run through the halls?” Her tone was light, laughter barely concealed as he winked down at her._

_“Only the pretty ones, da’asha.” Before anything else could be said, they both heard the shout of their friend and laughed before he pulled her through the fade with him, disappearing around the corner before they both took off running, hand in hand._

She opened her eyes to find them standing at the wooden gates of Haven before journeying through. As she went to turn towards the blacksmith, Solas grabbed her arm and pulled her out towards the empty roads instead. She lifted a brow in confusion before speaking.

“I know the Evenuri can cast magic happily without a staff, but I need one, Solas.” Her tone was playful but serious. He shook his head.

“You may use mine. It would be best to keep your magical talent… hidden. For now.” Her eyebrow raised slightly, but she did not question. He was planning something as always. She wondered what it could be about, but she left it alone for now. He would tell her his secrets when he was ready. Just as he did about the veil. The two elves strolled passed the training recruits, eyeing the sight of Cassandra levelling some of the practice dummies. Aravae eyes widened in surprise at the sheer strength behind each blow. She reminded herself to try and stay on the seekers' pleasant side—no more magic tricks and secrets. Eventually, the sound of training floated into the background as they made their way to a secluded, open area well beyond Haven. Druffalo dotted the snowy mountains, but they were harmless unless provoked. It was perfectly hidden and out of sight of the inquisition scouts. Solas’ must have believed so too as he turned to her suddenly, halting their walk. She stopped quickly as not to run straight into him before he offered her his staff. She admired the sleek silver body; it was surprisingly heavy for a mage. Not that Solas’ ever had an issue with strength. She half wondered if that was the reason, he’d chosen this staff to carry around.

“Now, what are you having issues with? You have been awake for many years, I would have assumed you could control it.” She flushed pink in embarrassment and gripped the staff tightly, pulling it to her side.

“I can… it’s just I have never been able to master it as less as I had before. If I am to fight using magic, it must be quick; otherwise, I find myself losing control of it. I do not wish to harm anyone while helping, so I have stopped using it in battle.” The elven male frowned sightly in thought, his eyes raking over her slowly.

“Perhaps we should start small then. See how long you can maintain a fire.” He quickly knelt to the ground before crossing his legs, gesturing for her to do the same. She gently placed the staff to the ground, careful not to break the crystal orb held in place by two swirling vines. She made herself comfortable before breathing deeply, concentrating in a way she never had too previously. She felt herself pull from the veil, its resistance was unusual to her still, so she pulled harder. Slowly, a bright warm flame curled between her hands, dancing around her fingertips. She let it dance around her as Solas’ watched, she could feel his magic surrounding her, poking and prodding at her own aura. Trying to find the faults in her work. As time passed, she felt her control begin to waver. Pulling from the veil becoming less consistent, instead of flowing, it came in chunks, erratic as it showed in her flame. Bursting brightly before simmering low only to flare once more. All of a sudden, in her frustration, she pulled too much from the veil, and the fire exploded in front of both of them. She hissed and brought her fingers to her lips, sucking the minor burn that remained as her consequence. Her eyes cast away from Solas, her earlier embarrassment returning with a vengeance. However, he took her hand gently, removing it from her lips as he pressed his own fingers to the wound. She held back a shiver as she felt the cooling sensations of ice press against her.

“Your connection to the fade in this world is weak.” She felt the familiar pinpricks behind her eyes. She knew. She could walk the fade in dreaming with no problem, but when she was awake… She could barely feel it at times. It hurt to think about. Once, it had been such a big part of her life. Her magic. And now… now it was like she was grasping at straws. Trying to hold onto something that was slipping through her fingers as readily as sand. Pearly teeth bit into the flesh of her lower lip.

“It scares me. I feel so detached. I cannot summon like I had once. I cannot protect myself with it.” The pain was evident in her voice. She was terrified she would never learn to cast correctly again. Never remember to master the pull of the veil like so many in this world had. She was so wrapped up in her own fears that she did not catch the agony that tore through her companions' features. Not until she felt his arms wrap around her, his forehead pressing against her own in comfort.

“Ir abelas.” Suddenly, her heart ached even more. She had been thoughtless with her words. He looked at him, but his eyes were squeezed shut in pain. Her hand lifted to his cheek and stroked it gently.

“Tel’abelas. You did what you thought was right. You stopped them from taking over the world in their greed. Tel’abelas ma’fen. This is merely a side effect. Halam'shivanas.” He tensed at her words. This was not her duty. It was not her duty to suffer for his actions. His actions that had not only destroyed the elves of this time but had affected his own people. His own light. He gritted his teeth slightly, unknowing how to deal with the guilt and anger that coursed through his very being. His body began to shake as he tried to keep it in, it wasn’t until he felt her hands cup his cheeks, her fingers brushing over them gently, soothingly did he open his eyes once more to her. Large emeralds welled in tears. His heart stopped.

“It hurts me that you hold all of this guilt. Do not destroy yourself over it, it will break me too.” Her words felt like ice in his veins. How was she always so giving? Always willing to stay by his side no matter how much he took from her?

“I have taken your connection to the fade, and you would still forgive me for it?” His throat was raw, shredding with unshed tears and held back emotions. She softened under his mournful gaze.

“Yes. For I know, you will do all you can to strengthen it once more.” At this, she pulled back, allowing him to collect himself as he nodded in understanding. It was the very least he could do. He could teach her how to manipulate the fade. He had done it once, he could do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, Solas’ “look” is precisely the one he gives the inquisitor when she pulls away from kissing him, and he goes in again. That one. Coy bastard.  
> Also, da’asha is the nickname used in another fic on this site that I can’t remember the name of. But I loved it, and I’m using it—full credit to them. It’s a cute nickname. 
> 
> Translation:  
> On'dhea = Good Morning.  
> Fenedhis = Literally Wolf Cock. Spoken as a curse, similar to shit.  
> Da’asha = Little woman.  
> Ir abelas = I am sorry. Lit. I am sorrow.  
> Tel’abelas = I am not sorry.  
> Halam'shivanas = Sweet sacrifice of duty.


	12. Redcliffe Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which their descend begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! Hope everyone had a great day! This chapter is DAI plot heavy. It will be the only real event that sticks to script almost completely. You'll see.

The days passed quickly between meetings, training with the scouts and her new magical training with Solas. Despite his lapse in confidence over the reason for her magical restraint when she told him, he had seemed to take her words to heart, wanting to train daily so he could help build her magical reserves back up. She felt it necessary to inform him that she wouldn't immediately improve, no matter how much he told her what to do. To which he had huffed and eased off of the countless monologues. Not that she had really been complaining. It was nice to spend time with him, surrounded by magic, away from the rest of the world's problems. Even if the green glow of the breach above them couldn't be ignored completely.

Aravae hummed gently as she patted the neck of her horse. They had been riding for a few days now, and she was happy to notice that this time, her thighs and groin were not nearly as sore as the first. Although not entirely unharmed, it was much more manageable. They were almost at the Inquisition's camp, just outside of Redcliffe Castle. She shifted in her saddle slightly, the dull thud of pain slowly increasing the longer she continued to force herself to ride. She'd achieved a slight respite when they'd entered the refugee camp. The children instantly recognising her as they ran to her. She'd been happy to see them again. Their faces were now washed clean with firmer clothes than the tattered rags they wore when she left. They'd been more than happy to tell her all the good things the new soldiers had done for them and how they'd started helping gather herbs and water now the imminent threats were gone. She'd smiled and congratulated them all. They seemed far happier now, faces rounded with food and brighter smiles all around. She was ecstatic to know they were being helped so much. When she had finally managed to slip away to see Elyssa, the woman had immediately swallowed her up in a tight embrace, almost squeezing the life from her in its intensity. They'd laughed, and Aravae had told her of the herbs and potions they'd brought with them to help. Elyssa had been tearfully thankful, stating how well everything was going with the village despite the unrest of the castle. Aravae had been curious at that and asked her question; however, it wasn't long until Solas was at the door, informing her that the Herald had finished speaking with the Corporal. They would be continuing forward to the camp. She'd nodded and bid her friend goodbye, informing her she would see them all again with a smile.

She was glad they were doing better, but the information about Redcliffe had her worried. Once they stopped at the camp, the companions huddled around a wooden table where Ellana was reading a note from the advisors.

"We will be entering Redcliffe to speak with Grand Enchanter Fiona, the rebel mage leader, as per her request. We will also gather any bit of information that is granted to us. Our goal is for them to help us to close the breach, so please, be respectful. We do not want to insult the only real opinion we currently have." It was a nicely worded warning to Cassandra, really. Aravae gave the stern woman a sympathetic look. She doubted the warrior would truly endanger a way to seal the breach. She was a fierce and driven woman, but she was not moronic. Before the group could return to their horses, Aravae spoke of her concerns.

"Herald, I was speaking to my old friend; she had mentioned that no one was coming in or out of Redcliffe for days. Not even merchants as they previously were. She's also overheard some hunters and scouts that mention more rifts around the castle than anywhere else in the Hinterlands. They'd mentioned there was something different about these particular rifts, but she never heard more than that, unfortunately. We should be more careful going into this." Ellana's eyebrows furrowed together, her lips drawing into a thin line as she took in the information.

"That doesn't bode well for us. Alright, it will be better we travel on foot then. Everyone keep your guard up as we get closer; the more information we can get about what is going on before we meet this Enchanter will be useful." And with that, everyone grabbed their small supplies for the road and began the walk to the castle. She watched from the corner of her eye as Solas moved to walk by her but seemed intercepted by the Herald, who called for him. She watched as the two conversed pleasantly, her ears only catching glimpses of their conversation. Mostly Ellana asking if he knew anything of what they would face. Despite how unnecessarily close she walked with him.

"Y’know, it will always confuse me why people continue to press feelings when they’re already told no. I get the thrill of the chase, but you’d think being told no so many times by the face of a stone-cold rock would waver your confidence. At least a little.” She huffed with laughter as Varric walked beside her. His voice was lower than usual despite the distance between the two pairs. No one ever did know just how much elves could hear.

“Maybe it’s because they’ve seen more than the stone-cold face. Maybe that’s worth chasing.” Her grin was easy, despite the current topic. It wouldn’t do to tell everyone just how uncomfortable the scene made her. Not even herself. She knew the man was picking for information. His own curiosity too strong to let it all pass by—the cons of being a storyteller. You always had to find more stories. The dwarf chuckled and shook his head before giving her a knowing look.

“I don’t know about that; Chuckles seems to reserve any emotion for you. I think he conserves it during the day; that way, he can be more than a stiff, talking textbook near you.” She laughed harder than she had meant to. Solas had his moments. It was strange at times to see him so withdrawn when interacting with the others. She had assumed it was due to his secret, but she doubted many would understand, let alone care if it were to get out. Other than the Herald. But that was the issue. Her opinion mattered. More so as the weeks drew on. She seemed to be the dominant voice among the advisors. The others always scheming while she made decisions. Such as asking the mages for help. She doubted Cullen had come up with the idea.

“That maybe so, but I fail to see how it is surprising to you. I’ll take a guess that Bianca isn’t sending you secret love notes all the way out here.” She grinned down at him as he laughed.

“You don’t know that.” A snort left her in disbelief yet amusement. But her diversion worked. He didn’t try and press on her and Solas’ relationship any further. Instead, they began discussing Varrics opinion on mages as they neared the castle. Very strong views she had discovered. Clearly someone close to him. It was relieving to hear someone wholly detached from magic hold sympathy for those who were not. Soon they began to hear the familiar sound of screaking and sizzling in the air. Aravae paused and sniffed the air slightly. Smoke.

“Rage demon.” The group paused, and all of them readied their weapons. They began moving closer, walking into formation without a word. Cassandra taking the lead, her and Varric just to the side, while the two mages guarded the back.

“Turn back. We will not open the gate with the demons here!” A woman’s voiced ordered them as they walked forward. Her breathing was ragged as if she’d been running. Most likely, away from the demons. The group nodded in recognition before moving forward once more. Their weapons at the ready as the demons slowly came to view. A rage demon and a few wraiths. Nothing major. Cassandra cried out loudly, drawing all of the demon’s attention to her as she readied her sword and charged forward. She slashed into the rage demon, her sword sizzling on impact. Aravae and Varric began to fire quickly, focusing all their attention on the more giant demon. The mages shot the wraiths from a distance. Keeping them from attacking. A barrier was well maintained around them, the energies changing every few minutes in order to conserve as much as possible. The group remarkably well practised despite only travelling together a hand full of times. They were efficient as the demons quickly went down.

However, as they all prepared for the second wave, Aravae felt a strange sensation surround her. The blur of green filled her vision as she tried to look for the others; however, her head would not turn quick enough before seeing two more rage demons summoned from the rift. She tried to force her body to react faster, but it refused, as if she was swimming in a pool of warm honey. It was slow and hindered her ability to think quickly. She managed to still shoot her bow, the arrow quickening as soon as it left the green perimeter, hitting the targets as expected. It was more than strange. She would have assumed the arrow to drop to the ground as soon as it left the circle. But it did not. The others quickly dispatched the demons while the Herald closed the rift with a shaky, glowing hand. She could hear her name being shouted yet couldn’t react appropriately until she heard the loud **bang** of the veil sealing. The strange magic immediately disappearing as it did. She took a deep breath as soon as she could, not realising how suffocated she felt in the moment prior. She felt Solas take her arm, spinning her to look at him. His hands quickly found her shoulders, magic pouring from his fingertips through her limbs. A shudder ran through her. It always felt odd when others pushed their magic so quickly through you. It was also dangerous had they not done this so many times before.

“Are you alright?” His voice was low, neutral. But no one failed to see the concern behind his gaze as he watched her trying to breathe normally again.

“Yes, I am fine. Just a bit out of breath. Thank you, ma’falon.” He nodded in turn and released her before she was quickly assaulted with questions from the others.

“What was that?” Cassandra asked as she hilted her sword once more, her eyes roaming over Aravae as if to check she was alright before nodding. Said elf smiled and nodded her thanks back.

“I… am not sure. It was sudden and slowed everything. I could barely think. I hadn’t even realised how hard it was to breathe until it was gone.” The others stared worriedly, Solas humming in thought beside her.

“The rift altered the flow of time around itself. It is… unexpected. More is going on here, as your friend said. We must remain cautious.” Ellana took his words with a nod before gesturing for them all to continue. She came to Aravae side, which surprised the woman.

“Are you okay?” The elf was quiet, her eyes scanning the road for danger as they walked into the village.

“I am. The effects only seem to last while it is activated. Thank you.” The younger woman nodded and walked towards a scout that ran towards them without another word. The older woman watched her with a curious expression. This Herald was a mystery. Her actions often seem contradictory, but she would take respite, knowing that she believed her teammates' wellbeing was important.

“My Lady, we have cleared the tavern so you could speak with Grand Enchanter Fiona. But you should know, no one was expecting us.” The group turned confused at his words, with Aravae speaking first.

“I thought you said she approached you at Val Royauex?” She turned to Solas with a puzzled expression. His darkened look only caused her to frown, realising there was something amiss.

“We did.” Was Cassandra's response before the group fell silent. They walked with unease towards the town's busiest section, no doubt where the ale was sold. No matter what culture it was, being inebriated seemed to be the favourite pastime for all. Her own included.

“Agents of the Inquisition, my apologies! Magister Alexius is in charge now but hasn’t yet arrived. He’s expected shortly. You can speak with the former grand Enchanter in the meantime.” The man that approached them was an elf, lanky, with slicked-back brown hair. Once a city elf, she assumed. A coldness seemed to cloud her heart at the thought. How young had he been taken? Had he ever known freedom? No. He was a city elf. With magic. There was no choice of freedom for him. Her teeth clenched slightly, eyes narrowing in disdain before she followed the man to the tavern. Then his words hit her harder. _Magister. Tevinter._ Worry gnawed at her gut as they entered the establishment. The smell of ale was less than she imagined. Like it had not been used as a place for merry drinking for quite some time despite some patrons sitting around.

“Welcome, agents of the Inquisition.” The woman who spoke was another elf with short dark hair. Her eyes were sunken as if she hadn’t slept in a lifetime as she addressed them. Aravae only marginally paid attention to them speak as she looked around the room. When important people spoke, that was when you could catch people’s reactions, people’s intentions, their dementors and motives. It was when people were most likely to strike. But the room seemed dead. Like it was filled with living corpses, none uttering a word as they merely drank silently or muttered short sentences to one another unenthused. It was worrying. Something was very wrong. Her eye also scanned the room for any signs of Tevinter allies or mages. There were none.

“…free mages have already… pledged themselves to the service of the Tevinter Imperium.” This caught her attention. Her head whipped back to the Enchanter; a frown set on her face while her eyes narrowed.

“You feared retribution for your own actions so much that you would enslave all of these mages to Tevinter? What exactly do you think a magister will do with you all?” Her voice hissed through her teeth, anger boiling inside her as she thought back to her first years awake. Solas pressed a hand against her back subtly, pulling her back from her memories as she immediately shut her mouth. Her glare continued, however, digging into the woman who quickly looked away from her in shame.

"She is right. I understand that you are afraid, but you deserve better than slavery to Tevinter.” Solas’ voice was calm yet forceful. Annoyance tinged at the edges. It was then Varric’s sigh cut through the noise. Half mumbling to himself and speaking.

“Andraste’s ass… I’m trying to think of a single worse thing you could have done. And I’ve got nothing.” Aravae and Solas both nodded in agreement, but it was the Seeker who wanted answers.

“Do you not fear all of Thedas turning against you?” The Enchanter looked to the ground as each individual looked at her with varying looks of disbelief and anger. Her previous confidence having fled her rather quickly at their accusations.

“As one indentured to a magister, I no longer have the authority to negotiate with you.” It was dismissive. She could almost feel Ellana’s silent fury about to implode. She hadn’t said much since the admission. The rest of her companions had taken over. She was Dalish. Perhaps she did not completely understand the severity of the situation until the others spoke up.

“So, tell me who does.” Ellana’s voice was uncharacteristically cold. The group held their breath at a response until the tavern door flew open with a bang. It wasn’t hard to tell who the man was with the ridiculous outfit he wore. His eyes ran over the five-person group with a slight frown. However, before his eyes could settle on her, she turned her head and stepped closer to Solas. The male elf giving her an odd look before turning his attention back on the recent arrival.

“Welcome, my friends! I apologise for not greeting you earlier.” The man smiled wide, although it only seemed to make her stomach crawl with dread at the action. She didn’t trust him. Not for a moment. What was he doing here? Surely he was not so daft he would try and capture all these mages from beneath Thedas’ nose for his own uses. Her mind swirled with possibilities as the conversation continued; her eyes flicked to Solas momentarily. He had a firm frown plastered on his face. His teeth clenched hard enough for his jawline to become even more prominent. She wanted to ask him what was going through his mind, what he thought of the situation. He always seemed to know more, able to pick up cues and tells better than anyone. He was a strategist, after all. But she couldn’t, and soon, her attention was once again grabbed as another joined their small gathering. A foul stench caught her nose as the new man moved closer. Her nose wrinkled, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. She knew the smell. It was faint, but there. But how? Her eyes flickered back to the Magister. He was still focused on the Herald, sending his son off almost immediately. She frowned. Perhaps she was mistaken. But as the boy return, he stumbled; almost everyone seemed to react. Still, it was Ellana that caught the boy, much to his seeming embarrassment. Aravae’s eyes once again flicked back to the Magister. Obvious concern and fear evident as he quickly dismissed them and took his son from the room. So she was correct. He was sick. He was blighted. Her blood ran cold. His father did not honestly think he could will away the blight with some… ritual… did he? Her hands clenched by her side, eyes glaring into the back of the closed door. She would not be surprised.

“Come to the Chantry. You are in danger.” Ellana held the roughly torn note in her hands delicately. Each companion offering advance on whether it was a trap or earnest, but Aravae cut them off.

“We must go.” Her words were firm, along with her stare. Leaving no room for argument. This seemed to irritate the younger woman whose teeth bared slightly in a snarl, but Aravae spoke before she could.

“He is a Tevinter Magister. Who has indentured an entire village of mages who Thedas would not entirely care to see gone. His son is obviously ill and trying to warn us. There is no good in this situation. It is obviously a trap. You know that. But it does not change the fact that all of these people’s lives remain in much more danger than you can imagine with him in control.” Her voice was grave as the others stared in slight shock. Dread and anger clawed at her stomach once more. If they would not go. She would. Be damned with them all. She felt Solas’ hand once again circle her back in comfort. She felt her shoulders relax slightly, but her gaze remained steadfast on the Herald, who seemed to be having an internal fight.

“You’re right, _hahren._ Let’s go.” The title was hissed in insult. Annoyance once again flooded Aravae’s mind. One moment it seemed the elf could act as a leader, and the next, she was nothing but an insolent child, willing to burn bridges in spite. Either she learnt to control it, or they were doomed to fail.

“But only myself, Varric and Cassandra will go. The fewer people we have, the less suspicious we will be.” The ancient elf’s temper flared once more, but she bit her tongue. There was _some_ logic.

“Herald, it may be beneficial to have a mage who may have more knowledge of this time magic,” Solas spoke slowly, but Ellana seemed to have none of it, snapping back quickly.

“I am a mage, Solas. I will be fine.” And with that, the selected party marched away. The other two occupants giving the elves exhausted looks before following the fuming Herald out of the door.

“Fenedhis.” The curse fell from her lips before she could stop herself. Solas looked down at her with slightly widened eyes. Despite the situation, they gleamed with slight amusement.

“You spent to much time around Felassan.” His words were teasing as she turned to him with a tired smile.

“Yes, because he was the only bad influence in my life.” She gave him an incredulous look as they both began to make their way from the tavern, not willing to spend another moment in the less than desirable location.

“Excuse me, you are part of the Inquisition?” A monotoned voice called from beside them as they began to make their way out. Aravae looked up first, her eyes scanning before she met a face with a sunburst tattoo in the middle of his forehead. Grief filled her heart once more. She wanted the day to be over. She was so tired of all these sudden feelings.

“Yes. How can we help you?” She was direct. They preferred that; they were somewhat like spirits in that regard. Not understanding most euphemisms.

“I wanted to ask if the Inquisition requires apothecaries? I am skilled with potions and such. The Magister does not wish for those disconnected from the fade to remain, and I have nowhere else to go.” His words were heartbreaking, but his voice never wavered. No tears nor sadness reached his eyes. So, she felt them for him. Beside her, Solas had fallen silent. She smiled.

“Of course. Walk to the nearest scout with an Inquisition badge, tell them the Herald has sent you. They will show you where to go from there.” With that, the man nodded and began to walk out of the tavern. No drink to finish, no bag of belongings, nothing. Just himself. She sighed heavily and started walking from the tavern again, this time, her pace much quicker as she made her way to the entrance of Redcliffe. If the Herald did not want her, she would remain out of sight until she was required. She needed peace. Silence. Solitude. But as she walked, her gaze catching the decrepit windmill in her periphery, she felt Solas’ hand intertwine with her own. He did not say anything as he kept with her pace, allowing her to lead him to the secluded area overlooking the small village. She quickly scaled the rubble, sitting on the single solid beam that remained while her bare feet swung softly beneath her. She felt Solas quickly join her side, his staff remaining beneath them. He did not need it. And at this moment, he did not need to pretend. She sighed heavily as she leaned into his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist loosely. His cheek resting on her head.

“I have never met someone… such as that.” Solas’ voice was soft, unsure as he chose his words carefully. Aravae felt her ear twitch as his breath rolled over it. She turned to him slightly, realising she had been so caught up in her own emotions once again, she had been neglecting her friends. She sighed and placed a hand on his thigh. The other bent upright so he could lean against it.

“Ir abelas… it is certainly hard to witness the first time. Even after. It hardly gets easier.” She thought back to the man. That could have been her. It would have been her. Had Kirkwall found out where she had come from. Tevinter. She sighed once again. It was becoming a habit.

“Do you know of Tranquillity?” Her voice was soft, expecting him to confirm, but instead, he shook his head. She looked up at him, confused before remembering he had not been awake as long as her. Despite his advancement compared to her. Some knowledge just took time.

“When you are accused of being unfit for magic, whether by becoming an abomination, blood magic, or simply not being able to control your magic, you are sentenced to tranquillity. It is a ritual in which you are stripped from your connection to the fade. But it also takes your ability to dream, to feel emotions.” Her eyes swelled with tears. Her heart aches for all those who had suffered such a fate. All because of peoples fear of the unknown. Fear of something that was so important to their world. They just did not know it. She felt the man beside her tense, his hold trembling around her as she felt his magic ripple violently around her. She hummed, not afraid. She was never fearful of his anger. She encouraged this anger. There should be anger. It was not fair. This world was not fair.

“There must be a way to change it.” The words spilt from her lips without thought. She instantly felt the magic freeze, along with Solas. She swallowed; this is what people should fear. Silence. For it was his most deadly attribute.

“There is.” His voice was firm. Resolved. She turned to him; her eyebrows furrowed in question as she looked at him. He, however, was looking over the village with cold indifference.

“We will.” His voice was so sure. So confident in that statement. It was the same voice he’d used when he’d told her he would seal away the Evenuris. Revenge for the wrongs done to their people. She believed him then, and she believed him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like one thing DAI classes and races do not address well is the diversity in regards to events. Honestly, would the average Dalish elf, who is not a Keeper, know all about Tevinter slavery and blood magic unless it had affected them at one point? It’s even been said that clans do not travel near Tevinter.  
> Also, I will try hold off on using direct dialogue for the most part. But sometimes I just really enjoy the companion responses to events. Especially Varrics. My favourite dwarf.  
> Elfs and mages really are treated awfully in Thedas. They deserve freedom. Team Anders and Solas. I am everything Thedas hates.


	13. Playful Travels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group returns to our elves before leaving them behind once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We hit 300 veiws. Yay! I hope everyone is enjoying the story!

Aravae and Solas remained atop the windmill for quite some time, both basking in the quiet solitude, which was suddenly very rare for them both. Despite how much they tried to find time to spend with just each other, it was often short or interrupted. Typically, by scouts or a particular elf. Aravae’s nails tapped against her companion’s thigh, humming a soft tune that hadn’t been sung in many ages. It was her favourite. One of the children had once taught her. She felt a sad smile, grace her lips. She thought of them often. How she missed them so. Her eyes closed, instead, focusing on the swirl of magic that trickled over her skin. She could feel her stray pieces of hair floating gently in the aura, and with a smile, she released her own slowly. She could manage it for a time. Their auras were contradictory in a way.

His was smooth, soothing and fluid. It flowed against your skin, like gently caresses. Meanwhile, hers felt like the hairs on your arms raised in excitement—that jolt of elation that tingles on your skin and leaves sparks flaring. Hers was energetic. She had once thought it was because it was new to her. Unlike Solas, who had hundreds of years to master it, but it never dimmed. His was simply calm, while her own raged in excitement. She missed the times they could release their auras freely. Unworried about who else could feel them. They swirled against each other, so naturally, her own prickling against their skin before his own soothed over it without a thought. Like a lover’s bite before a gentle kiss. Her cheeks heated slightly, feeling a cool wave curl around her neck.

“What do you think is happening in there?” Her head rested against his shouldered. They’d ended up closer, leaning heavily on one another as time dragged on. She felt him shift ever so slightly and worried she was too heavy on him before his arm curled back around her waist as if reading her mind.

“They will meet with this boy and learn about his father’s delusional plan. Depending on the result, the Herald will either fix it now or return to Haven.” Her brows pulled in thought.

“What do you think his plan is?” It was curious she had to ask him. Usually, he was more than willing to indulge his thoughts to her. His schemes and ideas, plots he had thought of around others. He was remarkable at guessing the enemy’s actions, their thoughts and processes. She wonders if it was always because he knew them personally. It made him a pain when versing in any game. She had given that up long ago. No matter how he’d tried to coax her into versing him once more. She new a lost battle when she saw it. He remained silent for a time, which caused her to press her aura gently against his cheek, reminding him silently that she was still beside him. He sighed deeply.

“Nothing that was meant to happen.” She felt her eyebrows pinch sternly in confusion. He was being cryptic. He had been ever since she’d found him. At first, she believed it was because of his actions. Which, undoubtedly it had been a part of it. He was less worried about her leaving, at least since she had found out. But he was still keeping a distance. Not physically. Mentally, however, there was something holding him away, occupying his mind in a way that would not let him rest. Would not relieve him from the stern, sober elf the other members saw him as. It was not lost to her. The sorrow that clung to him when he thought she was not paying attention or his mind drifted longer than he intended. Some nights she could not visit him in the fade. She could find him. Once you spent enough time in one’s dreams, they were easy to reach. But there were nights she could see the demons that clung to his dreams. The darkness that swirled around his form. Some nights she would banish them for him. But most, she knew he had to face himself. It hurt her. Hurt her to know how much he was suffering. Alone and in silence. How he refused to completely open up to her admittedly stung her more than she wanted to admit. Once, he had never kept a secret from her. Could not. But now. No matter how close they become or welcomed one another, there were secrets that kept them apart. It was not just his own, either. She knew her own failures and demons

kept her mind distant. This world would not allow complacency. Not from them. They were, in a way, intruders. This world was not designed for their kind. Too old. Too knowing. Too stubborn in their ways. A sigh left her as she sat up slightly, feeling his hand pull from her side. His posture straightened, as did his expression. Her eyes trailed over the ascending slope that led to them, finding the party of three coming into view.

“Well, isn’t this a romantic spot. If you don’t count the rotting wood, of course.” She chuckled as Cassandra hit the dwarf over the head, sending him a daggered look before the elves dropped from their spot with ease.

“Well, nice to know you two were off enjoying yourselves while we had to fight thought those ridiculous time magic traps. We learnt of a man referred to as the ‘elder one.’ Worshipped by some Tevinter cult called the Venatori.” The Herald’s tone was clipped, exhaustion leaking into her words.

“We had offered to come along. You refused. However, we did manage to find a Tranquil man who wished to help Adan. He mentioned he was quite talented with potions and herbs. I believe it would benefit the Inquisition, so we sent him to the nearest camp.” Aravae’s tone was even. Her time alone, despite Solas’ presence, had reminded her of other worries. She had more important things to consider than the child’s temper. She heard Varric’s quiet snort at the retort but try to hide it behind a cough. The Herald gritted her teeth. Aravae was, however, having none of it. This game was childish.

“What is our course of action, Herald?” The shorter elf very visibly wanted to continue her original argument, however, backed off when asked the question.

“We will return to Haven. Alexius plans to lure us here with a meeting and use the Venatori to kill us. We need a plan, these mages cannot stay under his control, and I’m concerned with their connection to this ‘elder one.” Blue eyes clouded in thought, her arms crossing as she seemed to ponder something.

“However, I have been informed that there is a mercenary group that wishes to join the Inquisition. Their second-in-command came to speak with me before we left. I was originally going to make a side journey after retrieving the mages; however, this has put a halt to those plans. I must return to Haven immediately; the sooner a plan is created, the less likely we are to fail.” She sighed, obviously annoyed by her change in plans. Aravae wondered why a mercenary group was interested in the Inquisition. Money, most likely.

“Aravae and I could meet with this group in your wake. If you would like.” The female elf’s eyes darted back to her companion. She doubted the Herald would be too keen on the both of them being alone together, so far from her view. She could barely stand them leaving Haven’s gates to train with one another in solitude. But Ellana seemed to consider the option. Maybe because it came from Solas’ lips and not her own. Oh, sweet favouritism.

“I guess that could work. Varric could go with you.” The mentioned dwarf made a face.

“As much as I’d love to be _that_ third wheel-“ his sarcasm was quickly cut off by a frowning elf.

“That will be unnecessary. We have travelled alone together previously. I presume there will be Inquisition soldiers where we are headed?” It was presented as a question but seemed more of a declaration. To which the Herald frowned.

“Yes. Very well, if you two are confident. Send word once you arrive at The Storm Coast. Then again, once you leave, so we know if you come into trouble. We shall inform you if there are changes to the plans ahead.” The group nodded as they began to walk back to their camp. It seemed their day was not quite over. Although the thought of being truly alone for a time with her wolf was a pleasing one. She suppressed a smile. It would do them no favours to admit how excited they were about such a thing.

Eventually, the group arrived, and after setting up explicit sites they would need to stop at to send word, the others were on their way. Eager to return to Haven with this new information. Even if it required riding through the night. Aravae hoped the horse’s wellbeings would be considered in such an event. It was three days journey with breaks, a day and a half without. A long time for an animal to be pushed. Her mind then wandered to her own journey; she had not been to the Storm Coast and was unaware of how long it would take on horseback. They waved the others goodbye before Solas turned to her and asked her to retrieve their things from within the saddlebags. She raised an eyebrow in question; however, he turned away, walking to some of the scouts before she could question. Instead, she began to do as asked.

Her and Solas both carried their own bags belongings in their own bags, even when travelling on a horse. But they kept small rations and water within the saddles, primarily for the animals themselves. She quickly removed the items and placed them into her own bag. Gently petting the beasts as she waited for Solas to return. She’d tried to listen in on their conversation, but as soon as she paused, the horses would huff and press their snouts to her, nipping at her hair for attention. She laughed and decided to offer her full attention instead. She eventually felt him come back to her side, asking if she was ready to leave. She nodded and realised they were not taking the horses with them. The thought brought a smile to her face. She missed walking the lands as she once did. Admittedly, a horse was a much safer and, therefore, faster option now, but she missed her old ways. The two elves quickly set off, starting their long journey in silence as they breathed in the fresh air and quiet sounds of animals chattering.

“I must admit, I have missed travelling this way.” She hummed as Solas nodded beside her.

“As have I. I somewhat miss journeying through these lands. Although we will not travel so plainly once we reach the border.” The female elf looked to him in curiosity, wondering what he was speaking of. He meant the border of the Hinterlands. It was when the trees began to flourish into forests, and many only travelled on the dirt road that formed from many travellers. They were not far. She remained silent, waiting to see what he was referring to. Once the trees began to thicken and hide them in their leaves, she felt her body relax. She felt most comfortable in the forests. They could hide her. She watched as Solas turned to her; he fiddled with the straps of his bag slightly, tightening them. She began to do the same with her own until it did not move on her shoulders. He offered her a slight quirk of his lips.

“Do you remember how to draw from the veil when we hunted?” A grin soon formed on her own lips as she realised his intention. He wanted to test her. Her magic reserves were slowly growing again after using them each day. And with his guidance, it did not feel so hard to pull. There was still resistance, and she would not be going into battle confidently anytime soon. Still, she could once again keep a small, steady flow of magic from the veil. She nodded.

“Good. If you feel yourself begin to waver, stop, and I will follow.” Without another word, the taller elf looked high before crouching. His gaze was keen as he searched the leaves before finding what he was looking for—a broad, sturdy branch. With practised ease, he launched himself into the air, his hands gripping onto multiple branches until he pulled himself to stand on his chosen. He looked down at her with a quiet smirk. She huffed a laugh.

“I’m surprised someone so old can still be so agile, Hahren.” She teased lightly, watching him roll his eyes before taking off in a blur, a tall form jumping and weaving through the branches much more quickly than anyone would expect. She grinned and adjusted her bow. _Oh, how long it had been._ She launched herself high in a familiar fashion, feeling her magic propel her slightly before her bare feet hit the bark. Her foot wrappings holding enough grip to keep her from slipping. She felt the wind gently breeze through her hair; the smell was fresher the higher she travelled. She gathered a small amount of magic from the veil and used it to aid her legs as she sprung to the next branch with ease. She was slower at first, finding the familiar rhythm she once used before she got the hang of it. Once she did, she grinned wide and quickly chased after her wolf. Aravae could felt the trail of his magic, following the familiar aura easily as his form promptly came back into view. She wished her hair was not tied in a bun so tightly. She missed the feel of it flying freely around her when she ran in such away. It was freeing in a sense she could not explain.

She laughed as she jumped to a branch, catching the wolf off guard. He stumbled slightly as he landed beside her. Barely keeping himself from running into her. She laughed at him as they stood there, having made immense distance in a much shorter time than if they had taken horses. Many things in this world were designed to fill the hole the loss of magic created. But they did not have that issue. She grinned as she took the time to pull the leather binding from her hair, unravelling the small braid that keeps it from falling into her eyes. The brunette waves fell to her waist, as thick and wavey as it had been all those years ago. It was one thing she was proud of. It reminded her of home. She smirked slightly at Solas’ stare, his eyes taking in the sight of her breathing heavily, a slight sheen of sweat on her skin as her face flushed in exertion. He coughed slightly to himself once she leapt to the next branch, no longer beside him. His gaze never left the flow of brown hair that ran either beside him or in front. His mind sometimes imagined specs of gold and feathers in the long locks, although he knew it was only his memory that played tricks on him. He grinned to himself and pulled more magic from the veil, quickening his pace so he could leap behind her, catching her off guard this time. She yelped slightly and almost fell from the branch before his long arms grabbed her waist, pulling her back up to him. He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges as she smacked his chest gently.

“That’s mean. I almost died.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but the persistent wolfish grin didn’t fade from his lips. His slightly enlarged canines becoming more apparent with the glint of mischief in his crystal eyes.

“Doubtful, ma’enlea.” His lips were suddenly close enough that they brushed against her ear. Her breath hitched slightly as she moved back toward the base of the tree. Her back hit the rough bark as he followed easily. His larger stature covering her from the light that seeped through the gaps in the leaves from this high up. She couldn’t help but grin up at him, the sound of her blood rushing through her ears from the excitement of racing through the forest. If Varric were to see them do such a thing, he would laugh at how clique it all was. Two elves jumping through the trees together. She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled over her lips, and his own deeper chuckles followed after. There they stood, barefoot on the branch of an oak tree almost as old as them both, laughing at each other like children at the bliss of being able to use magic so freely, running in a way that could teleport them back to a time when it was common to hunt in such a way. No restriction or fear of being caught by templars, no fear of other races ridicule as they were the predominant race that walked Thedas, covering the lands in their own designs and people. She felt the ever-present sadness that accompanied her memories, but the joy that radiated from them both, seeing the carefree laughter of her wolf, as his eyes sparkled in a way she hadn’t seen since Arlathan made her sadness fade into nothing but childlike bliss.

It was these moments she missed the most. Sure, the pretty crystal spires and lavish golds, delicate silk dresses and elven culture were missed, but this. The freedom. The freedom of magic and self. This had been what they had fought for. For thousands of years, he had fought for all to be able to experience these moments. Because they were to be cherished. This was freedom. She looked to him, his eyes soften and far away until they caught her own. His thoughts were similar to her own. A genuine smile curled on his lips. His forehead pressed to her own. It was an act of trust. To do such a thing in their time. It displayed friendship, trust and loyalty to do so with another. It was natural for them, a physical reminder of their bond without words. Without another word, she watched as he crouched before slipping an arm under her knees and lifting her bridal style to his chest. She laughed freely, her arms wrapping around his shoulders tightly as he began to sprint once more with her in his arms. Once every so often, she would feel the tingle of his magic flourish over her skin for a moment before disappearing. Her laughter flowed around them, as did her hair. She tried her hardest to keep it out of his view, but as she tried to sweep it back, she would almost lose balance and immediately cling to him once more. Each time would earn her a throaty chuckle from the man who didn’t seem bothered by it. Eventually, the two came to a river. He stopped abruptly on a branch above it which almost gave her whiplash before lowering her to her feet. She steadily rebalanced herself as she felt her magic shift to hold her in place once more.

“We have almost arrived at the Storm Coast.” Her eyes widened immediately at his words. He had mentioned it would take at least two days on a horse if they were not to stop. They had been sprinting, but she did not think they had covered so much ground in that time. Maybe halfway, at most. Her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion before it clicked. The rush of magic had not just been his aura, he’d fade stepped. She rolled her eyes at him and jumped from the branch swiftly.

“Show off.” She could almost feel the smug grin on his lips as he landed beside her. His lips pressed against her ear, playfully.

“You were not complaining earlier.” She flushed and pushed him away from her, his laugh echoing in her ears as she did. The sun was beginning to set as she quickly began to hitch up the tent. Solas had left briefly to gather wood for food. He returned soon after she was finished, placing them into a neat pile before summoning a pile of small rocks from the riverbed to form a circle around the wood with a wave of his hand. She watched. How long had it been since she watched someone use magic so freely? Without fear of consequence. She missed it.

“We could use our rations tonight since it will not take as long to arrive as expected. This way, we will not need to hunt.” She hummed in agreement, quickly grabbing her bag as she walked to the edge of the glowing fire to sit by him.

“It would also taste nicer.” She laughed as he glared at her pointedly, his ears dropping slightly in exasperation. It was cute and oh so more noticeable without his hair to hide it.

“My food is edible. You are just picky.” His words were huffy and final. But she sniggered.

“Edible is not the same as nice.” She bit into the dried piece of meat from their rations before grimacing slightly. It was almost like eating bark. Solas’ smirked.

“I never said otherwise. But at least my hunt is edible.” It was her turn to huff in annoyance before forcing herself to eat a few more pieces. She did not require much; ancient elves could live on very little despite their modern ancestors’ ferocious appetites. The sun had quickly set since it was almost the middle of winter, leaving them both in nothing but the glow of the firelight. The air was far warmer here, despite the season, humidity prickling at her skin. There was rain close by. Hopefully, it would not fall tonight.

“Will you visit me tonight? There is someone I would like you to meet.” She whispered softly, catching Solas’ attention immediately. He stared at her for a moment before nodding. He had planned to anyway, but to know another would greet him was somewhat exciting. It would have to be a spirit. He wondered what kind. There were so many kinds despite what this world preached. Many hid deep in the fade, avoiding anyone who passed through in dreams, others were curious to anyone who came near, disrupting their surroundings—his mind races with thoughts before he heard a feminine laugh beside him.

“Calm down, ma’fen. You will meet them soon.” He chuckled and nodded. He was curious about the kind of spirit that would attach itself to his light. Surprised that he had not met them already, considering how often he had been in her dreams and she, his own. But he was also curious as to why she wanted them to meet. Was it wisdom she wished to impart with him? She knew of his oldest spirit friend already, so he was doubtful. Which other would she mean? Solas was a patient man. He waited for the perfect moment in most endeavours. Too hasty, and one would completely destroy every plan in place. He had learnt the hard way. He was old. Unthinkably so. He had to be patient to live as long as he had. Had to be patient to master the fade and magic as he had. Patience is what earnt him friends among the spirits that were deeper within the fade, afraid to meet those who appeared irregularly. Patience had been his virtue. However, he had learnt long ago that his thirst for knowledge was his both virtue and vice. He had no time for patience as he swooped the woman up from beside him, grinning as she squeaked in his hold and began to carry her towards the small red tent. He listened to her laugh and scold his impatience. But he did not care. He was curious. And his curiosity required sating. Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solas gets what he wants. In everything but fixing the world. Whoops.
> 
> Next chapter, you get to meet another of Aravae’s friends! And our favourite Merc Captain. Along with his children. Horns up! 
> 
> Do you guys mind how slowly this story is moving? I’ve been lenient with it since I’m updating daily, however, I’ve started worrying you might just be getting bored with all the extra filler, fluffy moments between characters. I promise there is reason to them, and I try to add history or foreshadowing not so subtly in it all but let me know!


	14. Meeting The Iron Bull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the Chargers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! We hit 50,000 words today! Yay! I hope you keep enjoying as much as I enjoy writing this.

It had not taken very long for the two of them to fall asleep once Solas had carried her to the tent. Only bothering to unravel a single roll as they laid together. It was odd to sleep in separate tents when they were on missions outside of Haven when they practically shared a room within the village. Perhaps it was odder that they shared their beds so readily with one another without much thought. It had happened in Arlathan as well, usually when one or the other had consumed too much alcohol during one of the many, week-long festivals, but never a daily occurrence. The first night they spent in Haven, they simply wished to remain together, not willing to part in fear that the other would somehow disappear during the night. Leaving them aimless and alone once they woke. But it quickly resolved to each night, not wishing to be apart from the other. Lingering wishes of closure that seemed to clear as they remained at one another’s side, even during dreams. The elder elf sighed softly, a smile on her lips at the thoughts. She was by no means complaining. She missed the physical connection with her brethren more than she allowed herself to dwell on. This world was detached in so many ways.

She felt as the fade swirled around her, hazy mixes of green, yellow and white shapes as they swayed with the tide of her mind. No particular place that held long enough to establish around her. Eventually, she focused, and the bright colours around her began to dim. The odd shapes started to form long shadowed rectangles around her, starting at the base of tall trees as the cold ground beneath her feet turned to fresh moss. The texture was squishy and cold but pleasant. It wasn’t real, debatably, but it felt all the same. The surroundings were illuminated by the gleam of white lines trickling through the leaves. No actual source could be seen, but it reminded her of the moons light. She began to stroll, unhurried as she eventually felt his presence appear beside her. They were both dressed as they were in the waking, not bothering with fanciful changes. Although her hair was free. It was always free in the fade, just as it had been in her life.

 _“It is beautiful.”_ The low voice beside her spoke. She felt the corner of her cheek twitch, pride filling her gently. It was. It had been. She felt the cold tendrils of sorrow sweep over her heart. It was also the place of her greatest weakness.

“ _Vin.”_ The woman once again began walking as her friend continued by her side, merely gazing over the land they walked as she led them on a familiar trail. One she had been walking for quite a few years now. Her mind wandered. How long had it been since she met him? 6? 7? 8 years? She could not remember. Time was somewhat obsolete when you had so much of it. Eventually, they came to stand before an enormous, gaping log that had been hollowed out over the years. It was almost as tall as her as she gazed into the blank darkness. Not a single thing could be seen within. It would be ominous if she did not know what already lurked beyond.

“ _Aneth ara_ _Ma’da’falon.”_ Aravae sang the greeting gently, looking into the darkness. She hoped that her presence would be enough for her friend to come despite the new one beside her. She remained silent, listening carefully for any noise until finally, she heard a soft scratching, like nails tapping on wood. A smile bloomed on her face.

 _“Ma’falon, emas garem!”_ A soft voice, almost childlike, echoed from the darkness. Soon the steps become louder as a from the darkness soon emerged an onyx wolf. So black, it looked like a shadow, had it not been for the bright red eyes that gleamed in the dark surroundings. She suddenly heard a slightly surprised chuckle from beside her. She felt her cheek heat suddenly, all the way to her ears. She had half-forgotten her friend tended to appear as a wolf in her excitement to introduce him. Not to mention the exact wolf in which the man beside her favoured when he managed his duties as Fen’Harel. She coughed slightly, trying to ease her own awkwardness before the spirit turned its attention to the new person. Despite her worry about him running away from a new elf, the spirit wolf began wagging its tail even faster as it approached. Eventually, it leapt high and pressed its weight into the female elf, causing her to fall back into the moss with a slight yelp. Despite the sudden change in position, she felt laughter bubble in her throat as she felt a large wet tongue begin to cover her face in spit. She lifted her hands and tried to calm the spirit, who had far too much fun mimicking its form around her.

“ _Vin, ar garem._ _Now you must sit so I can introduce you to my other friend.”_ The spirit whined loudly before cessing its actions and sitting its large form beside her. The woman made a face as she began to wipe the liquid from her face with a slight grimace. Her friend huffed beside her.

 _“I know who your friend is. He is me.”_ The wolf turned up its nose in a proud manner. Causing the woman to laugh gently, despite the blush that once again covered her cheeks. It was quite obvious who the spirit had modelled its design after; however, she could have lived without Solas having the clarification.

 _“I am glad to see someone else take great pride in such a form_.” Solas’ smile was pleasant, but she could see the mirth in his eyes as he looked down on them both. She made a face before trying to stand; however, her friend seemed to have a different idea. Its large form collapsing on her lap to keep her down instead. She chuckled and resigned herself to sitting on the cold ground as the giant wolf spread its form over her lap. She began to scratch behind its ear gently. The spirit giggled gleefully and nodded. It was often odd at first to witness a voice come from a spirit. It did not speak directly. Its mouth unmoving as it would in an elf or human form but rather seemed to echo in one’s ears instead.

 _“It's pretty, and it always makes Aravae happy when she sees it.”_ Said woman wondered if her cheeks might suddenly implode with fire if they became any warmer. At this, though, Solas’ smile became far more genuine, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he kneels before them both.

 _“You are happiness.”_ A smile graced her lips. She was not surprised he could guess a spirit’s nature so quickly, no matter how rare one might be. The wolf in her lap yelped in agreement, its tail once again wagging merrily as it pressed against her hand for more attention.

 _“I met Aravae when she was wandering memories of you. Glittering golds with white silk. Pretty music. Smiling faces. Friends smiling, but few matters to her. Eyes scan the crowd looking, searching for the wolf. But all she finds is a man who stands surrounded by others. She is happy all the same. I did not understand until she showed me more memories. The man was the wolf. The wolf makes her happy. The man makes her happy. So, I became the wolf. To make her happy.”_ Aravae listened to her friend speak, its eyes never leaving Solas’ as it spoke. It had heard the explanation once before. The first time it had come to her as such, she had been cautious, wondering if it was a desire demon or something more haunting. But she had quickly grown to love the form. It did bring her joy.

 _“When I had first woken, I had been terrified. Lonely. Angry. I hated what had become of our world. The fear was so strong, no matter where you would go. There were always demons creeping just beyond the veil. I spent so many years simply dreaming instead. I was content that if I got lost in the fade, I would not miss my body or the world I left. Happiness had found me deep in my memories. It had walked with me through them, understanding what I missed from them, what brought me joy, and had shown me their joy. It was so similar to my own. A side I had not seen during my wanderings in the waking. It gave me purpose again. It made me understand why living in this life is important. Despite its tragedies.”_ Her hands glided over the fur of the creature, its bright aura shining through the form despite the darkness that surrounded them. She would forever be grateful for her friend. She may not have met Solas again had she continued without him.

“ _Ma serranas, Lethallen.”_ She felt her heart flutter gently at his words. Gratitude seeped from them openly as he bowed his head to the wolf. The wolf paused for the moment, staring at the male elf before wagging its tail once more.

 _“Loneliness. No light as he walks alone. His only friend far. Unable to speak. Sadness lingers. Until he finds her. His light. Brightness in endless shadow. The sadness lingers yet is drowned in the sound of her laughter, the weight of his future lighter as she smiles by his side. You are happy she is here. I have given you happiness.”_ The words seeped in elation as its tail whipped back and forth excitedly, its eyes turning to a blinding yellow suddenly. She giggled softly and nodded. At that, the spirit rolled its mass of fur from her lap, instead rolling on its back between them. She smiled laughed as the great beast stretched out before Solas, it’s stomach on display, to which he looked mildly confused and amused by the spirits antics. She would admit it was peculiar.

Spirits tended to mimic a specific thing from the waking. Many pick humans or elves. At least when they interact with others who pass through, in an effort to appear more likeable. Spirits were always trying to be helpful, at least the friendly ones. No matter what the Chantry said. Once she had shown Happiness, a memory of the wolves Solas and her once cared for, and it had immediately become enamoured with them. Later it had discovered dogs such as the Ferelden mabari, and from then, every time she met with it, it would come in the form of a wolf, it’s favourite type of canine. And had picked up many of the domesticated dogs’ mannerisms.

She looked to Solas, who appear uncertain of his actions and gestured for him to pet the spirit. He seemed hesitant before beginning to rub his hand slowly over the fur of the creature, the midnight texture soft against his calloused hands. The spirit yipped happily before launching itself up clumsily and lathering the elf’s face in slobber as it had done to Aravae earlier. The female elf covered her mouth in shock before she began laughing hysterically at her companions. Solas’ eyes had turned wide before closing in safety. He chuckled and tried to calm the beast with soothing pets to its head. She eventually wrapped her arms around the wolfs large torso and pulled gently, allowing Solas to escape its clutches.

“ _Ma’falon, settle. He accepts your friendship. We shall return together another day.”_ The spirit eventually whined and left the man alone. Its golden gaze turning to her.

 _“You are leaving already? You never stay with me for long anymore.”_ There was reminisce of childlike whine behind the words. If the wolf could pout, it would be. She gave the spirit a pointed look at its words.

“ _I cannot remember. I must return to the waking in order to fulfil my purpose. As we spoke of_.” The spirit gave a sigh before nodded, offering her one last lick to the cheek before it walked back to its hideaway slowly, looking back at them briefly in hopes they would stay before Aravae gave it another look and motioned for it to continue. Once the spirit had left, the two stood in silence for a moment.

“ _Ir abelas. I did not think he would be so excitable around someone so new.”_ However, Solas quickly shook his head, a quiet smile she had not seen earlier, lingering on his lips.

“Tel’abelas. It has been a long time since I have met such a spirit willing to befriend me so readily. Although, I assume you are to thank for that. It seems remarkably attached to you for a spirit so rare.” She smiled gently, somewhat proud of her spirit friend.

 _“Vin, it took many years to become this close. It was terribly frightened of anything entering the fade ordinarily. Ma serannas, for being so patient with it.”_ Solas only nodded, his mind continuing to wonder about the strange spirit. It did not surprise him as rarity such as happiness would attach itself to Aravae. Yet, he wondered why she was so willing to share it with him. His heart warmed slightly. Many would not consider sharing such a rare friendship with the world. Still, she had done so willingly, even offering his own to the spirit who seemed to accept it. Happiness swarmed through his chest, and he could not help but chuckle slightly before turning to the shorter woman and enveloping her into a hug. She stilled at the sudden action momentarily before leaning into his hold, her own arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“ _Ma serannas, ma’enlea.”_

_\-----_

_\----_

Emerald eyes slowly fluttered open, and for once, she found herself not wanting to immediately return to the fade. Warmth surrounded her, creating a calming feeling as her eyes roamed over her companion, who had yet to wake completely. Taking in the sight of his chiselled jaw with high, prominent cheekbones. The slightly crooked nose from being broken one too many times while being too low on mana. The light dusting of freckles that could be seen now his skin was pale due to so many years spent in the darkness of uthenera. These lashes were longer than most men, tinted brown as they lay flush upon his cheeks. Her eyes then lowered to his lips. They were full, but not overly. A dusty pink despite the slightly chapped skin. It was common in cold weather and hard to escape. She felt the urge to run her fingertips over them. To remember how soft she knew they were. But suddenly, her tired daze withdrew, and she realised what she had been thinking. She cleared her throat softly, forcing the thoughts back. They were unnecessary. It was not as if she were inebriated. There was no overly emotional exchange between them. They simply slept together. And walked the fade together. Had two of her closest friends meet. One of which revealed to her that Solas was just as happy with finding her as she had been with him. Most of which they had done thousands of times before. Nothing had changed. She huffed to herself before sitting up slightly, trying not to wake him. However, her efforts were clearly in vain as she heard him murmur slightly and begin to sit up alongside her. She smiled down at him, banishing her previous thoughts.

“On’dhea.” He hummed softly before replying. His voice low and hoarse from disuse. It sent an unfamiliar tingling down her spine. She frowned gently at herself. What was wrong with her? Despite her companions' sleepy gaze, he did not fail to catch her expression, causing his own frown.

“Are you well?” She looked to him once more and forced a smile before nodding, not wanting to concern him with her own unfamiliar feelings. She would think on it later. Now was not the time.

“Yes. We should continue to meet with these Mercenaries. I have a feeling the Herald will want to return to the Hinterlands quickly, and I do not like the idea of her going in without us.” The man nodded his agreement before pulling himself to stand. Together they quickly packed up their belonging, covering their fire in dirt and returned the rocks to their rightful places in a short time. The conveniences of being able to use magic unsupervised. Once they had strapped their belongings to their person, they once again began their journey. The trees not so thick as they began to smell the salty air of the ocean. They would have to walk normally from now on. It would not do to have two elves running through the trees around skittish shemlen. They would probably end up shot at by their own soldiers. They mostly travelled in silence, happy to be alone together, without the worry of keeping pretences. Alas, their enjoyment had to come to an end. The Inquisitions flags fluttered in the rain, just up ahead. Aravae had retied her hair and lifted her hood. Not that it did anything to keep the rain off of her. She was drenched from head to toe. Although her partner was not fairing any better.

“Ah, the elves. We were not expecting you for another day.” Aravae tried to keep herself from grimacing. _The elves._ How imaginative their little organisation was. She sighed softly but nodded to the scout.

“We were lucky enough to be picked up by a friendly caravan. They road us most of the way here.” The lie slipped from her lips easily. Too easily. The scout, however, nodded. Not suspecting a thing as they moved towards a tent, inside was a sturdy wooden table, filled with papers and ravens keeping dry from the rain.

“Send word to Leliana that we have arrived and will be meeting with these Mercenaries today. I would like to leave shortly after. The sooner we return to Haven, the better. The Herald has plans that require our aid.” She spoke confidently, ordering the men who nodded their understanding before turning to begin writing. With that, she and her companion stepped back into the rain-soaked lands to find this group.

“We’ve been scouting the beaches regularly. There’s been sudden venatori action and word of a group of misfits fighting them for the last few days. They’re not far down the path there, shouldn’t be too much of a journey for you.” The young man motioned to a small dirt pathway that seemed to fork off not far from their camp. At least they had a direction.

“Thank you.” With that, the two set off. Mentally preparing themselves from anything as they ventured down the steep slopes to the beaches. It surprised her to hear the camp already knew of the venatori. But she supposed Leliana did not want any of their movements to go unnoticed as quickly as possible. They were a sudden, unknown threat to all of Thedas. It did not take long before she could hear the sound of large explosions mixed with blades and bows. The loud roar of rain and waves doing little to drown out the fighting. Solas gave her a look before they began to quicken their pace. Eventually, the battle came into view, and it was a wonder, to say the least. Magic flew from every direction. Yet there seemed to be explosions not caused by the fireballs, arrows flying through the air as they missed their teammates and embedded into Tevinter mages with stunning accuracy. It was rather obvious who was venatori and who were the Mercenaries. They slowed their pace, noticing the clear victors as a very large man with horns cried out as a battle-axe came crashing down upon his opponents. Aravae almost winced as she heard the loud sound of bones splitting beneath the force. Quickly the fight wrapped up, leaving the remaining group cheering and laughing loudly. Some of them walking around the dead, checking to make sure they would not suddenly pop up while they celebrated. However, the large man she had been watching turned towards them; his axe heaved upon his shoulders as he began walking towards them with a large grin. He was… enormous, for lack of a better word.

“You must be the Inquisition agents Krem sent for. I’ll admit, didn’t expect to see two elves here, ‘specially a mage.” His voice was gravelly, low but friendly in a way. Direct. She could work with it. It was not her who spoke first, however.

“Neither did we know it was a Qunari who lead these mercenaries.” Solas’ voice was stern. She was slightly surprised at his abruptness. It was unlike him to be so cold to potential allies. However, the Qunari man only laughed at his words with a nod.

“Also, true. I’m The Iron Bull, and these are my Chargers. And now you’ve seen us fight. We are expensive, but we’re worth it.” Aravae nodded, knowing he was correct. The group seemed remarkably well practised. It would be beneficial to have a ready-made team who worked well together to send off on mission the Herald or they could not attend. Fewer casualties that way.

“They certainly seemed skilled. It would benefit us greatly.” She was polite but not too forward. He seemed to grin at that.

“Well, if that’s not enough, let me sweeten the deal. You’ll also be getting me. Words out about the Herald of Andraste. Saviour of our world. Champion of the Maker. And if we’ve heard about her, so have your enemies. She’ll need protection. I can be a front-line bodyguard. Venatori, demons, dragons. I’m your man.” He was confident, his words smooth and practised. He was remarkably well-spoken for his looks. Perhaps that was merely her ignorance of his race, however. She had never interacted with the Qunari. Kirkwall had its troubles with them, but she had been out of there before anything had really transpired.

“There is a catch, however.” She sighed softly. There always was.

“Ever heard of the Ben-Hassrath?” Aravae’s eyebrows furrowed together, her head shaking slightly in confusion. Yet, once again, before she could speak, another voice did.

“Qunari spies.” She turned to Solas slightly, her gaze confused at his clipped tone. It was understandable considering the conversation.

“Yes. I’m one of them. Send by the Qun to get answers on this breach business. It affects everyone, even them. I’ll send reports back to them, but in return, you will get their reports and my contacts.” She felt Solas stiffen beside her but remain quiet. She was thankful. It was not difficult to pick up on his distaste for the Qunari in front of her.

“It is slightly unprecedented; however, your company appears to be strong, and we are in need of strong allies. You will have to speak with our spymaster once we return to Skyhold and meet with the war advisors. Until then, welcome to the Inquisition, Iron Bull.” She did not reach to shake hands or solidify the pact in any way. She was curious—a spy. Solas seemed to be more than weary, and it set her on edge even further. She would have to ask him about it once they returned.

“Alright! Chargers! Pack it up! We just got hired.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, there will be no update tomorrow as I have all day commitments to attend. I hope you can forgive me, and it does make me sad to skip a day after 14 consecutive chapters. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Ma’da’falon: My little friend.   
> Aneth ara: A friendly greeting, usually between elves rather than outsiders.   
> Emas garem: You came  
> Vin, ar garem = Yes, I came


	15. The Gang Gets Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inner-circle finally met for the first time, and revelations are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope your days have been great. Sorry for the extra day delay. I ended up need a day to recover from my day plans. Whoops. I made this chapter a bit longer to make up for it. 
> 
> Ancient elvhen is in Italics.

The Chargers were a strange group. She did not know what to think of them, really. When she had been told that they were to acquire a mercenary group, she had generally assumed a group of humans. Maybe a dwarf or two. But there was every race in Thedas, it seemed, cramped into this little group that was so merry it was a wonder how they were mercenaries at all. Elves, dwarfs, humans and Qunari, all together, all happy. At least it seemed. One was even Tevinter. The second in command. Krem, he had introduced himself as. They would spend the entire journey cracking jokes with one another, storytelling, or even singing. Usually accompanied by singing and ale around a campfire once they decided to stop for the night. She and Solas had taken spare horses from the Inquisition camp in order to ride with them. It would be expected they ride together, and she had been keeping tabs on all of their habits and seeming intentions. As she had imagined, Solas had as well. Particularly the Qunari man. Bull, he had been referred to as mostly. Solas seemed to be particularly abrasive when he was mentioned or within sight. Not outwardly rude, but he was much more tense and sharp than usual. It made her wonder what kind of encounters he had had previously with them. She had asked him in the privacy of the fade, admitting she knew next to nothing about the race really, despite her ten years awake.

They were bound to their island and not permitted on Thedas grounds. Apparently, there were exceptions. But when she had inquired, he had been closed off and dismissive. Merely stating they were a race build on slavery, everything he had harboured. He had explained that each one had a role, and that was their life. Nothing more, nothing less. They also forbid magic. Seeing it as pure evil. Any Qunari with magic ability was killed or sentenced to a life worse than death as a silent mule for the person in charge. He had spat the words in vile tones. His anger seething as images passed by his mind. So, she had not pressed further. She could understand his anger in those words alone. It did not seem like a race she was willing to indulge in. But it made her curious about the leader of the Chargers. He seemed friendly enough, easy-going. It was strange to her that such a hulking man could be considered a spy. Spies were usually discreet. Unassuming. They blended into the background with ease so that others would not notice and speak plainly. She would know. She had been one for a time. Or now that she thought of it, multiple times. Her life seemed to be an unending battle for freedom. She had resigned herself to its purpose. To the purpose of freeing her people. That meant getting bloody in many different ways. Everyone wanted revolutions, but few would burden themselves with the cost. It was half the reason she had found Solas. Or he her. It had been so long ago now, she had forgotten. That part of her life was foggy, like well-kept secrets, shoved into a locked box. You knew they were there, but the longer you went without thinking of them, the vaguer the contents got. The more it seemed unimportant.

A soft sigh had left her lips once more. Her thighs once again hurting from riding for so many days. Though it was nothing but a dull ache. It was her thoughts that caused her the most grief. In Solas’ silent loathing of their latest addition, he had remained quiet. Merely observing. Leaving her mind to wander. It was dangerous. She often wondered if she had always been so scared of her own mind. Even back then. But she also knew her larger demons had only started when their world began to fall. Before she was forced asleep. She felt guilt. Not that she would ever tell Solas. He held enough already. But she was guilty for leaving him. For allowing him to think her dead for so many lifetimes. To leave him alone with the death of Mythal. It was not fair. Yet she knew it was a foolish feeling. Had she not been forced asleep, she would have very well been dead. Emerald eyes closed gently. Each jolt on the horses’ back seemed to send pain flaring up into her right rib cage. It was not real. It no longer hurt physically. But mentally, she did not believe she would ever escape from the memories of bleeding out on the moss-covered ground, surrounded by all she swore to protect. Dead. As she would be. The cause standing above her in all her glittering gold beauty. It was not fair that people so corrupt could still be so beautiful. Could still fool the world into believing they cared.

She felt tears begin to prick at the back of her eyes. Releasing a slow, shuddering breath, she forced them back once more. She didn’t die. She was alive. Yet, the thoughts did not seem enough. She was alive at the cost of so many others. _Tanned skin, amethyst eyes, white vallaslin._ Her heart clenched. There were so many lost. Her people were lost. She would never see them again. She would never see her world again. And there were moments she wondered what kept her moving. What made her wake up from the fade every morning? What made her keep searching for more? The sound of Happiness gleeful voice founded in her head. _Freedom._ Freedom for those who still called her brethren. For those still slaves to people more powerful. Who had never been allowed to choose if they could continue like she did. It was her purpose, and she would keep going, despite the tears and the pain that came with it. She jumped suddenly as a warm hand pressed to her thigh. Her head whipped to the side to stare into Solas’ concerned gaze. She looked back in confusion before she felt his hand rise to her cheek, collecting the clear liquid that had spilled onto them without her knowing. She hoped her hood was enough for the others to not notice. But it was doubtful as Solas and she had both stopped their horses in his concern. Her eyes flickered to the side, knowing that the others would be watching from the sudden pause in hooves.

“ _Forget them. Are you okay, ma’enlea?”_ His accent always showed more when he spoke their mother tongue. As did her own. A natural side effect that their language required. One that the modern elves lacked.

 _“Vin. Ir abelas, I did not mean to worry you. We should continue; we are almost in Haven.”_ The other looked unconvinced but nodded regardless. He retrained his face into stone before facing the group that looks at them both with various degrees of knowing, annoyance or curiosity.

“We will arrive in Haven within the hour. The Herald will wish to meet with you all immediately.” With that, there was a cheer for the long ride coming to an end. They were an easily impressed bunch, it seemed. Not nearly as dampened by Solas’ demeanour as she would have expected. But she supposed it was probably how elves usually responded to outsiders. Knowing they would once again be back in Haven was comforting and daunting. She enjoyed the comfort of a private room and Solas’ sole company. However, she was still annoyed with the Herald recent attitudes. Plus, the forever conscious knowledge she was surrounded by former templars did not sway her cautious attitude. But she found she had missed Varric storytelling and quick wit to keep her entertaining during these journeys. Even Cassandras dry retorts at times. Alas, they would be back soon.

\----

\----

Eventually, they could see the familiar wooden gates of their current home. It felt odd to call it that, but she resigned herself to accepting that it was the case. She had no other home. Nowhere that required her. Although a small part of her liked to think, she was required by her male companion’s side. Heat flushed to her cheeks. She needed time alone. These thoughts were becoming too numerous and affected her physically in ways she was still confused about. He did not seem any different or to notice, in fact, which was good. Yet, she still feared he might think something was wrong if she did not stop soon.

Once they arrived, she had quickly descended her horse, informing the others where they could be kept in the meantime, for once allowing Master Dennet to care for her horse. She trusted the man would take care of them properly. He seemed to adore the creatures in ways she had never seen another man. It was comforting. Afterwards, she and Solas walked silently through the wooden gates. The unfamiliar group behind them attracted much attention for their odd looks. It was not until they reached the top of the steps did they hear someone call to them specifically. Or rather by his specific names.

“Ah, Chuckles and Giggles. Was starting to wonder if you two were going to come back. Glad to know the idea of escaping into the trees wasn’t so tempting that you’d abandon your favourite dwarf.” She heard Solas scoff beside her while a chorus of sniggers sounded begin her in various degrees.

“There was admirable consideration, Durgen'len.” A grin curled on her lips as she quipped back. Varric only chuckling in return.

“Ouch. I’ll remember that when we head off to Redcliffe tomorrow. No stories for the inconsiderate elves.” Aravae made a face.

“We’re leaving tomorrow? Has the Magister already sent word?” Confusion hung to her words as Varric sobered noticeably.

“Yep. Seems our favourite time mage wants to get a head on his plans. Herald wants to go as soon as possible. Oh, we’ve also picked up another straggler. Andrastes tits, it’s a Tevinter mage as well. You’d think, givin’ the circumstance, we wouldn’t be accepting those applications, but he seems decent enough. Helped us at the Chantry. Apparently doesn’t like the Venatori too much either.” She heard Solas sigh softly from beside her, but before either of them could ask more questions, another voice cut in.

“You’re fighting Venatori, and by the sounds of it, A magister of all things. And you’ve just… accepted another Vint into your main ranks? Just like that?” The Iron Bull stood forward, joining their little circle. Varric’s eyes seemed to bulge slightly at the sight of the additional member. Aravae felt embarrassment rush through her at his words, accepting the ridiculousness, even if it was not her decisions.

“Varric, this is The Iron Bull. Leader of the Mercenary group, Ellana sent Solas and I for. Iron Bull, meet Varric. Our resident dwarf.” Varric only laughed at his dismal introduction.

“Hey, I’m much more than just the dwarf. You know you’d be hopeless without me around. Especially with the others. Maker, Herald really has started to gather a bunch of misfits here.” His voice was weary as he shook his head.

“That circle mage came in a carriage with a mountain of things by her side. I don’t know where she plans on keeping it all. The other came with a bow and a jar of something. I’m still worried about what was in it. She’s already terrorised the barracks with smoke bombs. She’s only been here a couple days.” Solas remained silent behind her, but she could feel his aura rise in agitation. Ah, she had forgotten in all the haste. They had gathered allies from Val Royeaux that he hadn’t been too friendly with. She briefly wondered how he would come if she wasn’t here, surrounded by people he seemed to disapprove of. Perhaps the Herald would have taken her peacekeeper position. The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. She quickly dismissed it.

“Oh, we also picked up a stray Grey Warden. He’s a bit odd. But so is every warden I’ve ever met. Leliana’s apparently worried about Warden’s suddenly going missing. Think it might be related to whatever in Andrsates name is going on here.” The two elves simply nodded, wondering if there would be any more people to suddenly pop up, asking to help.

“We should speak with the Herald. Has the war council been summoned?” It was Solas turn to speak. Varric nodded and began to walk towards the Chantry as the group did.

“They’ve been waiting ever since you sent that last raven a couple hours ago. Everyone should be there by now.” Aravae almost groaned. And here she had been hoping for a moment’s peace, alone. Doubtful that would happen if they were to return to Redcliffe tomorrow. She apologised silently to her thighs in advance. It did not take long for the group to arrive at the foreboding walls of the religious hall. She did not like this place in the slightest. At least this time, Solas would be beside her. And Varric. The large group entered the hall before a scout appeared before them.

“Solas. Aravae. Welcome back. The Herald wishes to see you both with the Mercenary leader immediately. The rest are to follow me to their temporary quarters.” She sighed gently in relief. She did not feel like squishing into a tiny room with them all. It would already be a cosy fit by the sounds of it. The Herald seemed to be somewhat charismatic to attract so many willing allies so quickly. Although, maybe saving the world was a more desirable idea. The four then continued on to the back of the Chantry, knocking slightly before entering.

“Andraste’s tits, there’s another one. How many elves are in this bloody circle?” The cry of a shrill voice was first to assault Aravae senses. She frowned as her eyes automatically locked with light blue eyes. Blonde hair was chopped in odd angles. Her clothes seemed no different. She noticed the pointed ears and became even more confused at the outburst. She’d been anticipating just another shemlen, annoyed that elves weren’t treated as slaves here, but this was much more surprising. Also, annoying.

“Darling, don’t use such language. It’s unbecoming. I am surprised to see another mage, however, especially an elf. You must be the apostate Cassandra was referring to that helped seal the breach the first time. Convenient, you seemed to know so much about the dear Herald’s mark.” This time, a dark-skinned woman spoke. Her head held high, all high cheekbones and full tips. She could have been regal if not for the staff that remained on her back. She would assume the circle mage, Varric had spoken of. The other would be the trickster. A sigh almost left her. This… would be interesting, especially at her accusing tone. Aravae felt the compulsion to retort in her friend’s defence before he beat her to it.

“Yes, however, it was merely theoretical knowledge until proven otherwise by the Herald. I hold little responsibility in such an endeavour as closing the breach.” The woman’s eyes only seemed to narrow further in suspicion, but she could not speak before the Herald finally spoke.

“Yes. This is Solas, our fade expert and Aravae, a rogue with magical knowledge on the fade.” This introduction only caused the Enchanter to look annoyed and suspicious once more. However, before she could speak, the Herald shot her a look, forcing the woman to back down before the others in the room were introduced.

“This is Blackwall, a Grey Warden that has asked to join us in order to help find where his order has disappeared to.” The said man nodded his greetings. He was a rather large man. One that was trained to fight. He held himself as one who was confident and ready to leap into action. As many of them did. His thick, oily hair and beard were, however, rather odd to her. Elven men did not grow beards. The elven did not grow hair anywhere other than their head and eyebrows. At least, it was that way for the ancient elves. She did not personally know for modern elves. She nodded her welcome to him before her gaze fell on the final unknown member that stood beside the Commander.

“And I am Dorian of house Pavus. The outcasted Tevinter mage and former student of your dear Magister.” The elf blinked slightly in surprised as the man flurried his arms before bowing dramatically. It was rather obvious he was of Tevinter. His clothes stood out significantly in the room of mostly rugged armour. His facial hair well-groomed, and his demeanour were much more casual than those around him, bar Varric who stood snorting beside her in laughter.

“A pleasure, Master Pavus.” The words were curt. She forced the distaste back. He had mentioned outcast; clearly, there was a story. He was also here, surrounded by his supposed enemies if he was part of the Venatori plot. It did not sit well with her, however. His face seemed to freeze for a moment as his gaze lifted to her face. She suddenly froze herself before ripping her face away from him. Turning to the large Qunari man beside her, shielding her face from the view of the man.

“This is Iron Bull, leader of the mercenary group; The Chargers.” His gaze, however, was on the Tevinter man as well. His earlier questions resounding in her mind. He was suspicious too. However, he could be tactful about it. When he only said a brief introductory, she felt relief.

“Master Tethras has informed us you wish to leave for Redcliffe tomorrow. I would assume there is a plan for such a thing.” With that, the large room fell silent as the Herald nodded and motioned for their Commander to speak. It would be a rather long meeting.

\----

\----

The cold of the night blew the heat from her face quickly. A shudder ran down her spine. It was getting far colder now. She had been correct. The meeting had taken a long time. Long enough for the night to fall over them all. As she tried to find the will to keep venturing into the cold, she felt a presence from behind her. The familiar warm that swirled around her caused her shoulders to drop slightly. Solas. He stepped beside her, and with that, the two began to make their way back to their cabins. She was almost relieved to have her own cabin for once. She needed a moment of peace. However, as they made their way to the small area, they heard another's steps behind them. It wasn’t long until they ascended the last steps that a familiar voice called out. His accent thick enough to know exactly who it was. Plus, the cheery tone was not common amongst the people here.

“Excuse me, Aravae, was it?” The mentioned elf turned; her face carefully pulled into a friendly smile as she stood too close to Solas. The Tevinter mage didn’t fail to notice the closeness but did not say anything about it.

“Yes, how can I help you, Master Pavus?” She would be polite. She would not cause a stir based on her own feelings. It did not stop her body from screaming at her to flee when his eyes trailed over her face, his own pulling into one of contemplation before she spoke. He grimaced.

“Please. Just Dorian is fine. Preferred even. Master Pavus is my father, and I’d hate to be mistaken for him. As he would I, I suppose.” She nodded, still wondering what exactly the story of his being an outcast was. A family issue, by the sounds of it.

“Of course, Dorian. How can I help you?” He grinned wide once more. It unnerved her a little. It all seemed genuine. Which was odd for a Tevinter. They were usually very good with masks, but she was also very practised with reading beneath the mask. It had saved her life more than once.

“I… know this might sound odd. But I could swear I’ve seen your face before. One so pretty can hardly be forgotten so easily, y’know.” Ice rushed through her veins. She tried to hide how hard she swallowed at his words. She tried to find her voice, but it seemed to fail her as she tried to think of something, anything, to say. Yet it would not come. Fear crept in her mind.

“I’m inclined to believe otherwise, Master Pavus. Aravae and I have never been to Tevinter.” It was Solas who spoke for her. Silently realising her struggle. The warning was clear, however. The new mage visibly flinched at the sound of this fathers’ name once more. His flirtatious smile suddenly felt forced.

“Ah, forgive me then. I do hope I could get to know you both better then. I will be on my way.” With that, the tanned man quickly stepped past them and entered the cabin. Her cabin. She finally found her voice.

“My presence has clearly been missed.” The words were supposed to be playful, a way to lighten the mood, but they only seemed sour in her mouth. She felt a warm arm curl around her waist and lead her gently to Solas’ instead. Although right now, she did not mind the idea of company anymore. She needed it. As they entered, the room lit up with fire, warming the inside considerably. She could barely think as she felt herself be guided to the bed. She sat silently, her mind elsewhere as she watched the man before her kneel in front of her. His long fingers grazed over the laces of her foot wraps that reached her midthigh. His stormy gaze met her own.

“ _May I_?” She shuddered gently at the roughness of his voice. With a dazed nod, she felt him begin to slowly unlace them, enough to gently pull the leather from her legs with little effort from her side. Continuing with the next. His finger grazed over her covered legs, but it still sends red hot fire through her limbs. She swallowed once more. Her mind suddenly remembering why she wished to be alone previously. She felt him begin to press small circles into her calves, easing the tension in them and forcing a quiet moan from her lips. A sigh left her as his fingers froze momentarily.

“ _Ir abel-“_

“ _Tel’abelas.”_ He cut off her apology almost immediately.

 _“You have been more troubled than usual since we left camp.”_ He did not need to expand on which camp. She knew. A slow nod was his only response. He hummed quickly and pressed his forehead to her own in reassurance. A small, tired smile curled on her lips at that. She opened her eyes once more to stare into his beautiful blue pair.

 _“Allow me to look after you, ma’enlea. Tomorrow will not be easy, and I will worry if you are not prepared.”_ His gaze was longing, and she could not refuse something he so openly asked for. There were few things he honestly requested. She nodded.

“ _Ma’serennas, ma’fen.”_ With those words, she felt his hand lift to the buckles of her leather coat that travelled from her collar bone to her midthigh. It almost looked like a dress, but between her under armour, leather coat, high wraps, and tight breeches, it made for formidable armour. All of which was coating in an indiscernible amount of reinforcement magic. Making it all much tougher to penetrate than it looked. He was silently proud she had taken such precautions. But he knew she would. She had always been innovative and resourceful. She had been one of his best agents, no matter how much he loathed to send her away from him, in fear she would not return. He began to unbuckle the various straps, silently enjoying the motion more than he would willingly admit. Eventually, the coat fell from her shoulders, revealing the thin white linen tucked into leather breeches. He stood then, taking her wraps and jacket to fold them onto the table. However, as he turned around, he felt his breath hitch suddenly. The sight before him, rendering him silent. She stood from the bed, her hair now free from its confines, tumbling down to her lower back in smooth silk curtains. Her fingers nimbly untying the laces of her breeches before tugging them off with minor difficulty. The days sweat making them more reluctant than she wishes. He coughed slightly, his throat suddenly far too dry. She finally managed to remove them and picked them up gently, folding them before lifting them to Solas; her eyes gazed in sleepiness. He took the garment before placing it with the others. His gaze barely leaving her form. The thin linin tunic was more than long enough to cover her completely. But it did not hide the length of her legs, nor the catch of the shirt on her curves. Against popular belief, ancient elves were not as lithe as their modern counterparts. Just as he was taller and far broader than male elves, she was far taller and curvier than her counterparts. Nothing like the human women who ventured on human brothels but enough to remind Solas once more how much things had changed from their time. He assumed she would climb into the bed quickly, given how tired she looked, but she instead turned to him. He froze beneath her gaze. She walked to him, lifting her hands to his chest. But before she did anything, she lifted her gaze to his own.

“ _May I?”_ Her accent always showed more when she was tired. He loved to hear her in the morning. The quiet _on’dhea_ she would whisper in sleep often took him back to Arlathan. Nights spent in a drunken stupor with their friends before falling asleep wrapped in one another after being unable to make it all the way back to their separate quarters. They would wake in the morning, effects of the wine from the night before thick as they laughed sleepily and spoke of events that happened or needed to be done that day before they would simply roll over and return to the fade together. It was a simple time. One he missed greatly. He nodded his response as she stared up at him. Her hands began to unbuckle his belts before placing them on the table beside them. His coat following closely after. It was then she grabbed his hand and led him back to the bed, and knelt before him. He forced out a breath as he closed his eyes. Trying to keep the thoughts that assaulted his mind at bay. When had it changed? His breath hitches as she began to unwrap his foot wrappings with practised ease. Her fingers grazing over his skin unconsciously. Each touch sent tingles over the skin, like ice blistering over him. When had her touch started eliciting more than simple joy? Eventually, she pulled the wraps away and laid them beside her before she stood. Her form standing between his thighs, his long arms pressed into the beds beside him, hands clenched into the covers in an effort not to pull her to him prematurely. She leaned down, pressing her forehead to his, eyes closed as she muttered softly.

“ _I find myself shrouded in secrets, and yet you still ask nothing of me. You have continued to show me friendship despite knowing nothing of what I have done, how I am even alive.”_ She lifted her arms to run her fingers over his scalp, running her nails over his ears in a familiar fashion. He shuddered beneath her touch. He chuckled without humour. Irony clawing at his insides as he looked up to her.

 _“I have destroyed everything we treasured. Created a veil that has nullified your magic. Caused our people to become slaves once again. I still hold secrets you know of, and you still believe you are the one who is undeserving of this friendship?”_ The disbelief hung heavy in his voice, stormy blue eyes searching the deepest of emerald. She huffed in short, quiet laughter. Sleep still heavy on her mind despite all she wished to tell him. She knew he still held deep secrets, just as she did.

 _“Perhaps we are both undeserving, but I will tell you my secrets one day, ma’fen. Maybe then I will deserve this.”_ Her eyes closed as exhaustion quickly took her, her emotions running too hard, too fast. He watched as she yawned quietly, her nose scrunching up in a manner that he could only describe as cute before his arms once again wrapped around her form. Long fingers digging into the soft tunic before he lifted her easily into his lap. She hummed softly and obeyed the silent question. Eventually, he pulled her down to the bed with him, her resting on top of his chest as their legs tangled in one another. One of his hands soothed small circles into her covered back while the other caught her hand, entwining their fingers as she yawned once more and nuzzled into him completely. Her eyes closing as warmth covered them both. Before she let the tide of sleep and warmth drag her away, she felt his lips press to her temple gently as he muttered.

 _“I will tell you my secrets one day, ma’enlea. I promise you. Perhaps you will forgive me for them, as I cannot forgive myself.”_ And suddenly, he knew when it had all changed. When her touches had turned from the pleasant reminder of not being entirely alone to one of cold fire rushing through his veins. When her laughter had become something he sort to cause rather than a pleasant side benefit. When her seeing her in such a way turned from innocent friendship to the want to a man starved for more than touch alone. It was when she had forgiven him. Forgiven him for all his faults and failures without question. And he couldn’t help but think it would make her his biggest mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo, I love writing this so much. I miss all your comments though. I hope you are all still enjoying it!


	16. Sealing the Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When one is to seal the sky? Is it ever so easy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It is currently very late and I start work tomorrow. So they may not be an update for the next couple of days as I settle into that role. Enjoy!

Sleep continued to cling heavily to her as she sat on the wooden floor and tied off her foot wraps. Her armour feeling too tight as the numbness of sleep refused to part from her. They had barely had a few hours of sleep, by the looks of it. The sun had not even begun to score the sky with colour, still dark as the cold seeped into everything around them. She watched lazily as a hand come into her view; looking up as she grabbed it, she saw the dark circles around Solas’ eyes and knew she was not the only one who did not sleep enough. She allowed herself to be pulled to his body, resting her head against his chest while her eyes closed. Wishing she could return to the warmth of blissful sleep they once laid in.

“I have a terrible feeling.” The words were soft, but they did nothing to subside the endless gnawing in her stomach like someone stabbing and twisting a knife through her insides that would not go unignored. She knew what that felt like, too. The events at Redcliffe had been confusing. Daunting in many ways, yet she had never felt this bad. Worried by all means. Not that she needed to be, at least not really. She still found it difficult to think about the day. Its… revelations. Or what she heard of them. Most of them had been stationed outside of Redcliffe, only to enter if they were signalled. The Herald, Solas, Cassandra and Varric had been the only ones to enter the castle where the Magister waited to assassinate them. She had been chosen with a few of the recruits she had previously trained to follow the group through the secret tunnel under the lake. She had wondered how they even knew of such an entrance but was less inclined to take their advantage for granted. They were to enter with Dorian, who would disable the time traps and eliminate the Venatori before they could touch the Herald and the others. She was ready. If she failed, it would mean her friends could be in real danger. Solas could be in real danger. Not that she didn’t think he could get out of it, but he would have to reveal things that were better kept secret. The plan had gone off without a hitch, at first. Her arrows shooting silently from her place in the high beams. Keeping an eye on the rogues who snuck up on Venatori agents from the shadows. None of them had suspected intervention.

She had released some of her suspicion of Dorian after that day. Accepting that he had not been secretly conspiring with the Magister behind their backs. As she believed many of the circle did, his presence much more accepted when he entered their chatter afterwards. No abrasive remarks by Sera or interrogation laced as friendly questions by the Iron Bull. She still did not know what to think of the Qunari. He was obviously a spy. Trained well. Although he did not fit the description, his actions and demeanour spoke volumes when you knew what to look for. He was continually assessing everyone. Even her. It made her skill crawl when she would feel his eyes on her. Inspecting. She would meet his gaze every time. It was a subtle affront. Telling him, she knew what he was doing without saying anything. It was perhaps dangerous to do so. Not many could typically feel people looking at them when not trained to do so. It alerted him to the fact she was. But he had not said anything to her. Or the Herald, she assumed. The girl would have immediately jumped at the excuse to interrogate her more. She was already untrusted.

Her thoughts changed to the Dalish woman. She had changed after the attack at Redcliffe. She was more serious about her role. No longer bothering to fight her title, she focused on sealing the breach. And other things she had seen in their… different future. Aravae head throbbed slightly. It was the most baffling thing that happened in that castle. In Alexius’ desperate attempt to not be beaten, he had used a time amulet. One moment Ellana and Dorian stood beside each other, and the next, they had disappeared. The pure dread that had seeped into her bones as she watched the bright yellow portal close into nonexistence was almost as chilling as death itself. But it was only a moment. Then the portal reopened, and the Herald once again stood out; her face pale, armour covered in gore and hatred was strong as she stalked forward from the portal, Dorian making a quick quip before the young elf sends a clenched hand into the face of the Magister. Aravae had winced as she heard a bone crack audibly. It had indeed been a sight. But as the Magister fell, so did the Herald. Tears streaming down her face as she sobbed into her hands. Solas had been the first to regain his sense and quickly pulled her into an embrace, trying to soothe the young woman who clung to him and cried into his shoulder. The group surrounded didn’t know what to do. Not knowing what had really happened or how to help the young woman. Aravae had only felt sorrow for the woman as she clung to Solas like a child, desperate for consolation. It was in these moments Aravae remembered just how young the people who surrounded her were. Just how little they knew about this world and its tragedies.

Eventually, the elf let the memories fade once more. Realising, she had been drifting in her own mind for far too long. She now stood at the gates, Solas at her side while the others quickly trickled in. Soldiers arming themselves while a group of hand-picked mages steadied their minds and made sure their lyrium remained at their side. Once all the chosen had arrived, the large force began to make their way up the steep, wintered mountain trails. She tried to sort through the dread that clung to her steps, wondering what could be causing it. She expected demons to pour from the breach; however, demons had never caused her so much fear before. No, something was not right. She had little time to dwell on it for long as they eventually made it to the remains of the Sacred Temple. Cassandra had begun shouting orders at her men and Solas to the mages. Instructing them all into position.

“You alright there, Emerald?” Varric’s voice managed to cut through her own darkening thoughts. She looked up suddenly, taking in the sight of the tired dwarf. His coat wrinkled, and his eyes lined heavily. She offered a small, tired smile in return.

“I’ll be much better once this tear is gone.” The man grinned in return.

“Won’t we all. Might even get to drink after all this is over.” She chuckled in response, shaking her head as she began to pull her bow from over her shoulders. Noticing the soldiers starting to prepare and the mages gulping down vials of lyrium to enhance their connection to the fade. She notched her bow and gave the dwarf one late glance, noticing he stood beside her with his own crossbow drawn.

“And if it doesn’t, I’ll be joining you.” This earned a hearty laugh from the man, causing her to smirk and draw her bow tight, aiming it to the rift as the Herald stood before it. Her hand glowing brightly as she held it high towards the breach. Aravae’s eyes were drawn to it. It looked so familiar to her suddenly. She had not paid it a great deal of mind. Her attention always drawn in another direction, but now as she stared at the mark that gleamed with the same power as the veil, something was tugging at the back of her mind. Just lost enough she could not place it. Soon, however, her attention was once again stolen, a gasp left her as the swirl of magic pulled around her tightly. The mages summoning from the veil and pouring it into the diminutive form of the Herald, who cried out in pain as she lifted her hand to the veil. Bright green magic that looked curled like chains poured into the breach. Lightning blistered along her own skin, causing her hair to rise slightly as the magic flowed around her. Her grip on the bow only tightened as her concentration grew, forcing the lightning back until there was a loud blast that sent everyone from their feet. She groaned as she hit the ground hard. The snow not helping all that much as she sat up slowly. Her ears were ringing as she looked around to make sure everyone was okay on the balcony they stood on. Eventually, she heard cheering from below her. Standing, she walked to the edge and looked down. Cassandra had her hand placed on the Heralds back as they both smiled. Ellana looked tired and weak, but she was standing. A phenomenal feat in itself after such a display of magic. A small smile filled her face as everyone celebrated. Their faces sporting giant smiles. Their stances held more vigour than when they were initially trudging up the slippery slopes. It didn’t take long for everyone to begin leaving; however, the men and women stationed outside, also cheering as the Herald left the temple. Laughter and merry singing could already be heard as they ventured back to Haven, ready for a night of celebration, it would seem. Her eyes moved from the throws of people and searched. Landing on her elven friend as he assisted to Herald, his hands cupping her own as he looked over the mark, which still glowed with intensity after forcing so much magic through it. Ellana would flinch in pain as he touched it, but the look on her face was far from pain as she stared at Solas. Aravae swallowed gently, suddenly feeling the heat rise to her face. She hated these feelings. They had been far too familiar after Redcliffe. The two had grown slightly closer, Solas often being requested to meet with the Herald on various matters. When she had asked him about it, he had mentioned that Ellana was trying to find an ancient elven artifact from their time, thinking it was involved with the conclave. She had paused when he told her such. She had tried to ask more about what artifact, but he would be whisked away whenever she got the chance. There was also the matter of the mark. It had been glowing more frequently and not just around tears in the veil as it once did. It was not unstable, per se. But caution was still required. She sighed to herself as she ventured down the long hills alone. Allowing the cold wind to cool her dampened mood. He would not abandon her. But that was no longer the issue, was it? Shaking her head vigorously, she frowned. Pausing in the snow.

What was it then? What did she want from him? Friendship? Then why the pain when she watched them laugh with one another. Did she feel more for him? The question struck her. A tiny voice replied, but she forced it away without another thought. It did not matter. Even if she did, they were immortal. It was common for even committed immortals to have other lovers. It should not have mattered to her. She did not understand herself. She did not understand where the feelings had suddenly raised from. For thousands of years, they had been friends without doubt. Without issues. And now…

“You’re starting to worry me there, Emerald. You can’t keep getting lost like that.” Her thoughts were interrupted. Thankfully. She turned to the shorter man, slightly confused at his words. She was not lost. But one knowing look, and she relented. She’d been lost in her own thoughts all day. It had not helped the gnawing dread that still curled in her stomach. It had not been quelled by the closing of the breach either. In fact, it had only made it worse. There had been nothing. No demons. Not even angered spirits. The magisters defeat had been somewhat unclimactic either. It all left a sour taste in her mouth and fear. She knew it was all too easy. Nothing was ever this easy. There were always shadows lurking around the corner, ready to strike when it was least expected.

“I apologise. I suppose I’m a bit surprised this is over.” Varric nodded in agreement as they both continued to walk along with the other soldiers. She had lost sight of the others. Too caught in her own thoughts to keep up.

“Well, thank Andraste’s tits it is. I could really use a drink that’s not caused by imminent existential dread.” This caused the elf to laugh gently.

“I don’t think it’s a woman’s bosom that has saved us, Durgen’len.” Varric only smirked and shrugged.

“Debatable. It was a woman. Her bosom could have been a factor.” Aravae gave him a perplexed look that only made the man laugh. She followed quickly after.

“Speaking of women and bosoms, however, Solas sure has been hanging around the Herald quite often lately.” At this, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Yes, Solas is full of knowledge. I am pleased she has taken advantage of it.” The answer was careful, and Varric knew. He sent her a playful frown.

“You elves make it so hard to get any good stories out of. Too polite. At least you and Solas. If I said anything to Herald, she’s probably cut me.” This made her chuckle and nod in agreement. As serious as the woman had gotten, her temper never entirely disappeared for too long. Perhaps now it was even more uncontrollable once unleashed.

“Must you make a story of us? I was assuming the sky tearing and the Herald travelling in time to help fix it would be more than enough material.” The gates of Haven were coming into view now. And the loud cheering from within was even louder. The man shrugged.

“People love good relationship arcs, though. The chosen elf falling for a grumpy apostate, only to be outdone but the mysterious rogue with history.” His voice was deep, whimsical as if he was already telling the story to eager patrons. She snorted softly.

“Mysterious rogue? Is that all my character is?” She teased lightly. She supposed it was accurate. They did not know all that much about her. How could they? How do you inform people you are actually 8000 years old? Not easily. The dwarf shrugged.

“People like a mystery. And you are one big mystery, Emerald.” She raised an eyebrow as they entered the gates finally. He had apparently found her true nickname. At least it wasn’t giggles. However, now she was in the gates, she felt somewhat lost. Her eyes trailing over the area, wondering if she should return to the cabins, but she knew it was only because she wished for Solas to be there. He would not be. He would be with her. Her face frowned without her consent—something the dwarf picked up on.

“Maybe, for once. You could come drink with the unfavourables. We just sealed the sky, time to have a little fun.” She yelped slightly as he grabbed her arm and pulled her along to the Tavern. She huffed in slight laughter before following him. Yet as they entered and spotted a few of the inner circle inside, she suddenly felt self-conscious. The group consisting of Blackwall, Sera, Dorian and the Iron Bull sat at a bench, already laughing merrily with each other, a pint in their hands. Their eyes fell to Varric, and loud cries of joy were heard, and yet as they followed the arm that held her, their faces turned confused. She suddenly felt out of place. Varric either didn’t notice or chose to ignore as he sat her down next to Bull and sat beside her.

“Oh, so Miss Prissy decided she isn’t so high and mighty to join us after all?” The other elf frowned, glaring at her as she took another long swing of her drink. Aravae didn’t really know how to respond. She didn’t consider herself to be better than them. They had just not… interacted a great deal. She had spent her time with Solas, learning the history of this new land, practising her magic, and reading. She had simply grown into a routine before any of them had shown up and stuck to it. She supposed it was wrong of her to ignore them all. They had not ventured to talk to her, however. Especially the other rogue. Who always seemed to be offended by the mere presence of her for some reason.

“Oh, give it a rest, darling. Can’t you see the poor girl is already terrified? She clearly never stepped foot into a tavern before.” It was incorrect. She had. Just not… this kind. Not in this age. A snort sounded from the other.

“A rogue that doesn’t go to taverns. Hard to believe you are one. You give of the same freaky mage vibes as that bald one. Thinking you’re so much better than everyone. Gross.” Aravae felt annoyance once again. She could deal with insults to herself, but Solas was not here to defend himself.

“Why would we speak with someone who clearly has no desire to listen to us? You have already shown your dislike; it seems irrelevant to try and change a mind that does not wish to be changed. Why would I make an effort?” The words were cold and succinct. There was a short burst of laughter from Dorian and a chuckle from Varric and Bull.

“She has you there, Buttercup.” The dwarf took a swing of his drink. One had been placed in front of her, but the smell that it emitted was… less than appealing. She preferred wine over ale, by a long shot.

“So, what does bring our lovely elven maiden here? To celebrate?” It was Dorian who smiled at her. She had been avoiding him as best she could. Not obviously, but she did not wish for him to recognise her once more. She would have assumed those… events would have been long forgotten by now. But it seemed they still lingered for some.

“Is celebrating closing the breach not enough?” She smiled slightly, and the man broke into a large grin once more.

“But of course, it is! We won’t say no to another drinking partner. Although, I can’t say this stuff is worth drinking.” The stylish man looked into his mug was a grimace on his well-manicured face. She giggled slightly and looked down at her drink once more. She decided to attempt it and cough almost immediately at the bitter taste. It was the Qunari beside her that laughed this time.

“Ah, it’s not that bad. It’ll toughen you up a little, a least.” She snorted. She did not need toughening. She was much stronger than she looked, but he did not need to know that.

“I doubt drinking terrible ale will endower me with your physique, Iron Bull. Nor do I believe such a thing would look nearly as… proportional on me.” Her quiet quip made the table burst into laughter at the thought. And with that, they continued like nothing had changed. She sat and smiled, mostly listening to them tell stories as she refrained from drinking more. A small part of her mourned feeling close to others in such a way. Being able to express yourself without fear or secret. She missed her old friends. But she could live with watching others experience what she once had, knowing how they felt. It was… pleasant, at least.

\---

\---

It had been hours, and the sun had finally cast its last rays among the people. Everyone had decided to gather outside around large bonfires with ale and music. Dancing with one another in contagious merry. Their small group had also followed. Once they left the building, her eyes had scanned her surroundings, hoping to see her friend's now familiar bald face. But it was no use. He was not to be found. She hummed to herself gently and continued with the group, allowing the merry to continue as she sat and laughed, clapping along with the others. Yet as she listened to the joy of the music, her keen ears picked up on another sound. It was faint, barely noticeable. One that would have been overlooked by anyone else. A simple bird call. But it made her pause immediately. It was sung in a very distinct way. One in which many birds in this age did not sing. She stopped and listened harder, trying to tune out the music and laughter as she did.

Again.

It sang again—this time slightly louder since she was listening for it. The tune fluttered between soft and loud quickly before slowing to a smooth translation from quiet to noisy and then silence. It was Fen’Harel’s call. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked around, catching the eye of Varric, who was watching her keenly.

“What’s wrong?” She forced a smile and shook her head.

“I think I’ve reached my limit for celebration. It has been many years since I’ve been surrounded by such a thing.” The dwarf didn’t seem wholly convinced, but she stood nonetheless and made her way back to her cabin. Only she did not enter. Instead, she snuck to the fence behind it and quickly scaled the wall with the help of her magic. It had slowly been improving with more practice; Solas’ support had been unequivocal. As she stood on the fence, she listened out once more. The call sounded again, this time louder. It seemed more urgent. A frown formed on her face as she looked in the direction to came from. She breathed in deeply before whistling the tune back. It had been centuries since she had whistled. It was not as fluent as she once was, and she hoped it would be enough. There were two loud trills. Confirmation. She suddenly jumped from the gate and raced forward, knowing no one was looking around here, too caught up in their celebrations. She jumped into a tree and stood, scanning the area. She suddenly realised she was not even armed. Silly. But she was so caught up in the call. Who would know such a thing? Only those closest to Fen’Harel knew the specific call.

She leapt from the tree into the next, quietly whistling while the other called back. Eventually, she found a small formation of large rocks. The call echoed from inside. She leapt silently to the rock. Feeling the cold snow and stone beneath her feet, she fell to her hands, crawling over the rock to peek inside. Immediately she seen brown hair tided into a thick bun atop his head. It was a man, his frame tall and muscular. At least for an elven man. Her eyes narrowed at the tanned points of his ears. But before she could call out to him in question, he turned, his eyes meeting her own, and she froze. Disbelief poured from her very being as she stared in silence at the man before her. His easy grin falling from his lips immediately upon sighting her.

“Aravae?” He spoke first. His voice low, pained and husky. Disbelief hung from him as much as her. She felt tears roll down her cheeks, yet she was still unable to move. Her eyes scanned over him once more, taking in the white tunic and green breeches. A green clock buckled over his shoulders. But it was irrelevant. She stared at his heavily tanned skin, forehead lined with the blinding white branches of Mythal’s vallaslin. And those eyes. The amethyst that haunted her dreams and waking for so many years stared back at her. Finally, she was able to move. She was mindless as she flung herself from the rock above and landed atop him. Forcing them to both tumbled into the snow as his arms caught her reactively. She heard a deep chuckle and felt happiness pour from her soul.

“Felassan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn’t intended for Aravae to be such an outcast in the group but… kind of just worked out that way. Whoops.  
> And yaaaaaay. I’ve been waiting so long to have my guy show up. I’ll never forgive them for killing him off. Or Solas. Boy, how dare you. I’m also using the concept art I found on Art Station by Christina Kraus. Amazing artist.  
> Link here: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/q908DR


	17. Haven Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Haven falls, secrets become weapons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments, you three have been such wonderful encouragement. <3 And I love to read your thoughts on every chapter. Also thank you for the Kudos and Bookmarks. Most of all, thank you all to all who simply read and enjoy this.

She felt hot tears roll down her cheeks as she sobbed into the shoulder of the other man. Although she tried to force them back, warm arms wrapped around her tighter, a hand soothing down her hair as his voice muttered sweet sounds to her gently. Eventually, she calmed and pulled back slightly, needing to see him despite already holding him. Knowing he was real.

 _“Ma’harellan, sathan dirth ma tel’theneras_.” Her voice felt raw, soft as she tried to force the words from her lips in the quiet that surrounded them. Worried that if she spoke too loudly, it would break whatever spell had been put on her, and he would disappear from her grasp. Luckily, all she heard was his deep chuckle, him pulling away slightly to look down at her, his purple eyes gleaming with the reflection of the moon.

“ _Do you believe a demon could pull off my dashing looks so well, da’asha? I’m hurt.”_ Relief flooded through her body as she listened to his words. The tight muscles suddenly relaxed as she fell utterly into his hold, allowing his scent to encase her. She had not realised how much she missed his stupid sense of humour. How much she needed it more than clarification that she was indeed awake. She did not know if she would survive had this been a demon’s ploy. She probably would have given in. How she had missed him all this time. Thinking him dead along with everyone. It had caused her such heartbreak, thinking her two closest friends had perished along with their lands. Yet they had not. She almost laughed. Out of all of Arlathan, the three of them had survived. Maybe there was truth in the rumour that the Dread Wolf and his shadows could trick death. They had certainly done so on more than one occasion back then. And apparently still, on a much grander scale. A small, bitter laugh felt from her lips.

“ _Falon’din would be furious.”_ The words slipped from her mouth without much thought, but it caused the man to laugh alongside her.

 _“I’d say he’s become rather familiar with losing to us._ ” His cocky smirk brought a smile to her lips as she chuckled and nodded in agreement. His face eventually turned sombre as he lifted a hand to her face, gently running his thumb over her cheek as he held her. She furrowed her eyebrows at his sadness and pushed up on her toes to press her forehead to his.

 _“What brings such sorrow in this moment of happiness, ma’falon?”_ At her words, his eyes closed, and his grip tightened around her.

“ _Ir abelas, ma’falon. I failed you. I should have returned… I gave you my word, and I broke it. I did not wish to see you in such a world. It had become so broken…”_ The guilt hung heavily from his words, and she could not help but feel his sorrow. She had not been angry. Never at him. Confused as to why she had been left to Uthenera for so many centuries, but once she had woken, and now knowing what Solas had done… She understood why he had not awakened her. She would have done the same to him.

“ _Tel’abelas. I only regret we have been apart for so long.”_ His eyes softened even more before they sparkled with mischief. She narrowed her eyes immediately in caution before feeling his hands fall to her backside and lift her against him. Her eyes widening as she immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders once more and her legs around his hips to keep herself from falling. She felt the cold press of stone against her back as he grinned down at her devilishly.

 _“It only means there are centuries to catch up on, da’asha.”_ She felt her cheeks grow hot before she burst into giggled against him, her hold tightening on him as she smirked.

“I see thousands of years are not enough for you to grow up, shadera.” The grin never left her lips as he snorted and looked down between them. Not that you could see anything past their hips that were pressed to one another. He looked back up with a cocky grin and a raised brow.

“Given the circumstances, I believe this definitely counts as grown-up, ma’asha.” His voice was low against her ear as he leaned forward further. She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks continued to hurt from grinning so much after the constant worry of the day.

“ **Ahem**.” Two pairs of eyes quickly flashed to the side as another stood at the small rock den entrance.

“Am I interrupting?” Aravae had felt mildly like a child who was caught trying to steal pastries as she took in the sight of the bald elf frowning at them. It puzzled her. It had not been the first time Solas had found them in such a position… or others. He had never seemed so annoyed until now, or she so bashful. But the feeling passed quickly as Felassan spoke.

“Yeah, kinda.” Aravae shoved her face into his shoulder in order to hide her giggling. It hadn’t worked as well as she hoped, and she could almost see his own cocky grin aimed at Solas. She eventually pulled back and turned to the new addition. While trying to unravel herself from her companion. He pouted at her but released her before turning his attention back to Solas, his arms folding dramatically.

“You enjoy ruining my fun.” The other elf smirked slightly and walked closer to them, allowing them all to be hidden amongst the rocks.

“I do.” The response was short, but it caused another burst of giggles from the woman beside them as they bickered.

“What are you doing here?” Solas was the first to return to business. Aravae then realised something. Solas hadn’t reacted to Felassan being here. Meaning he knew he had been alive. And hadn’t said anything. Annoyance quickly boiled up in her. She knew their arrangement. Outside of friendship, Felassan had been known as the wolf’s shadow. His spy. As she had been once. If he was not here despite Solas knowing he was alive… it meant he was still spying. Presumably. She narrowed her eyes slightly. Why? Solas was no longer a known god. They did not have a fear of Evenuris or even the forgotten ones waging war on them or leading a rebellion. What was he spying for? Her eyes flickered back to Solas. She knew he had been keeping secrets… but just how big had his secrets been? Secrets big enough to require spies. Agents. Felassan would not be the only one. He was remarkably charismatic and well adept at gaining allies. Solas was not stupid by any means. Everything he did had meaning behind it. She was suddenly cautious of Felassan’s answer.

“Right. That.” His face turned serious once more, and the dread she had felt earlier came back with a vengeance. Almost causing her to hunch over as cold sweat broke out against her skin.

“I came to warn you- “Before he could finish his words, a large bell began to sound from behind them. All the elves turned to Haven as screams could suddenly be heard. Solas’ eyes flashed in anger as they turned back to the spy.

“Clearly too late.” The words were spat with worried venom, and Aravae narrowed her eyes. But the newcomer spoke first, hissing back with just as much distaste.

“Forgive me for being distracted by the fact our friend, who I thought was _dead_ until this point, answered my call when _you_ failed to. Something you’ve clearly known for some time and _failed_ to _tell me about._ ” The words were like ice to the others anger. Regret clearly laced in the stormy gaze of the bald elf before he bowed his head gently and muttered an apology before the group began running to the entrance of Haven.

“Fel, you will have to help the villagers; you need to stay out of sight of the Herald, advisors and the Qunari. They’ll be the most likely to recognise you’re not one of the scouts. Go.” He vanished from their side without another word, and Aravae continued to run with Solas into the gates. Seeing the Herald and advisors leading people through while closing up the gates. Aravae glanced behind them to see the snow-covered mountains dotted with black and red. Assuming soldiers. Hundreds could be seen marching over the snow-covered ground and possibly thousands over the hill still. This was bad. This was her gut feeling, and she cursed herself for ignoring it for so long. People would die. There was no way around it. And at the moment, without action, they would all die. The inner-circle gathered around the Herald, nervously twitching, eyeing the gates. At the same time, the advisors argued amongst themselves for more information. That was until Aravae began to hear a worried voice or a younger sounding lad call from the gate. The soldiers stationed to hold it closed, looking at each other in confusion.

“I have come to warn you, please. You must open.” She furrowed her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, Ellana was already running to the gate, ordering it open as a young boy stood at the doorway trembling. Five bodies of armoured men fallen around him. One was no man. It was a beast—a monster. Red gems glistened and protruded from its skin in grotesque chunks. Leaving a hazy red mist around it. She shuddered as she stared at it. Captivated before the boy once again spoke to the Herald. Alerting her to a man who was not happy. The boy spoke strangely for a human. She took in the sight of stitched rags and wide floppy hat that covered most of his face. Body tall but gaunt, like it did not fit properly. He was… odd. Different. But how?

“The trebuchets. They’re our only hope. You need to guard the soldiers manning them. Arm them to the mountain; hopefully, we can cause an avalanche to take most of them out and block the remaining from coming until we can get everyone to safety.” Cullen’s voice was loud and assured despite his frantic stance. They were all afraid. Rightfully so. But Aravae focused on the task, calling out.

“The people should be our main focus; we need as much help to get them to the Chantry as possible. It’s the only safe building here.” She eyed Haven’s grounds, still filled with people running around frantically, and not even to the Chantry, some going to their quarters in order to retrieve family relics and such. She wanted to yell at them to move. It was for their own good that they left it all behind. The Herald nodded at both statements and began ordering everyone around. She, Solas, Iron Bull, Blackwall, Cassandra, Sera and Varric would help at the catapults.

Meanwhile, Aravae, Dorian, Vivienne and the advisors would remain to help the people back into the Chantry. They would be alerted if reinforcements were required. With that, everyone split. Whether for better or worse was debatable. She feared for Solas. The others as well, but she could not bear the thought of finally reuniting with two of her closest friends, only to have it torn away moments later. She needed to know what was going on. Solas’ secrets were becoming more worrisome. She had given him time, and he had promised to tell her that night that felt so long ago. She shook her head as she began to yell for people to move to the Chantry, informing them that their belongings must be left behind for the good of others. She received some foul looks for it, but she knew it was mostly fear. These people had not experienced armies closing in on them before. The threat of real death lingering around them. They did not have the means to defend themselves. She did not know how it felt anymore, to be so helpless. She had fought wars; she had killed men. She had too much experience with the feeling of death just around the corner. It was like second nature to her. It was not something she held dear to her. But she pushed, trying to convey her urgency as she helped people up from the ground and carried children to the doors. Those too young and afraid to move in the chaos that was surrounding them. The loud sounds of trebuchets firing began to assault their ears, and the hard, thunderous clashes to the ground beyond were enough to shake the earth. Screams of terror grew louder as a fire began spreading around the cabins. She cursed to herself. She ran towards the flames, only hearing more screams as she was pushed aside by many trying to escape the area. Inside the tavern, she could hear screams of pain and fright. She kicked open the door and scanned the room.

“Help! Under the bar!” A woman’s voice called through flames. The elf looked up and watched as the beams holding the roof together burned. She cursed once more as some smaller planks fell and began running to the bar, hopping over small burning piles that had already fallen. She leapt over the counter and crouched, coming face-to-face with a human woman who was streaked with fright.

“I was too scared to leave. The beams are going to come down on us!” Aravae looked up and heard the large beams begin to groan under the weight and fire that burned quickly. She looked back down and bit her lip before leaning forward to wrap the woman’s arm around her shoulder.

“I will cover us as we leave. But we will have to be quick, do you understand?” The frighten woman nodded as she made to stand with the elf, her steps were timid and slower than needed, but the elf could not bring herself to rush the woman too much. She could feel her tremble in her hold. Her eyes continued to scan the roof as they manoeuvred around small fires on the ground. Suddenly she heard a loud crack and the woman beside her froze with a shriek. She left her to go and raise her hands, calling forth a barrier quickly as the beam began falling on both of them. The flaming beam hit the barrier and caused Aravae to gasp slightly, forcing more magic to keep it off of them. The beam was too close to her hand that she could almost feel the fire blister against her skin. She hissed gently and asked if the woman could move, but she didn’t receive an answer, only a fearful whimper. Luckily, she heard the door open once more.

A purple gaze quickly met her own as she glanced down at the women. He nodded in understanding before running forth. Picking up the lady completely from the ground and leaping passed the rest of the debris. She cried out as she pushed once more and forced the beam to crash against the ground, but it caused flames to rise quickly and flash out at her, sending scorch mars over her leather armour. She groaned and began to make her way out of the tavern. The male elf once again returned as she made it to the door; his face flashed in relief as they both made their way up to where she and Solas had been staying. She needed to make sure Adan made it out. Her eyes flickered to Solas’ cabin before she continued on, finding not only Adan but also Helaine, Adan’s apprentice with him, stuck under fallen debris that had somehow caught fire. She and Felassan quickly made their way to them, lifting the beams without much effort to allow them free. Earning hurried ‘thank you’s as the two began running for the Chantry as the others did. It was less busy now. No one running through houses. Her eyes caught Solas’ cabin once more.

“Go with them, make sure they make it back to the Chantry and then wait there. Wear your hood. I will be there shortly.” Before he could protest, she ran into the cabin. She began searching, her eyes instantly falling to her bag, bow and quiver resting next to it neatly, and then the few precious books that remained on Solas’ desk. She quickly began buckling her weapons and grabbed her bag. She began shoving the more important books inside. Namely a black leather-bound book as she hastily tied it together and made her way back out. She only made it to the steps before she encountered more of the monsters the boy at the gates took out. They were inside Haven now. She cursed once more. One of them noticed her and began to run at her. She quickly unsheathed her bow and took it out with a quick shot to the head. Centuries of practice allowing her to do so with ease. She breathed in deeply and began to continue, shooting anything that crossed her path. However, a rogue had snuck past her sight as she focused on a warrior trying to slice her into two. Once she downed him, she screamed as she felt blades cut through her stomach, although it felt like someone had held the metal over a blacksmiths fire as it entered her, scorching the skin. Her cry had apparently been heard as a dagger shot through the air and embedded itself into the skull of her attacker. Her gaze shifted to her friend, who looked at her in panic. He ran to her side, hood lifted as he regained his dagger and began lifting her. She’d tried protesting before he told her to shut up and let him worry. She couldn’t help the small snort of laughter that left her.

She allowed herself to be carried back to the Chantry, which was far too loud upon entering. Her ears twitched in defiance. She could hear the Herald and advisors arguing about what to do. She coughed suddenly at the smell of smoke and burnt flesh, only to cry out in pain once more as blood began to pool around her hand that covered her wound. Felassan placed her on the floor, but before he could start to heal her, she felt another presence. The cold sensation of Solas’ magic flooded her system as she gritted her teeth in pain.

“What happened?” His voice was breathless like he’d been running non-stop. More than likely the case. It held a sharp tone, but it didn’t conceal the worry behind it. She coughed slightly and shook her head.

“I just got caught off guard. It’s fine.” Felassan snorted in disbelief while Solas glared at her.

“You have a hole in your stomach, Aravae.” She winced at her name and nodded slightly, resigning to the fact she would not be allowed to stand until he was finished healing her entirely.

“People needed saving; I wasn’t just going to sit in here.”

“The people were already here, the last arriving with Felassan. What were you doing?” Her eyes flicked down to the bow that was still clutched in her hand. She heard a sigh of defeat before the three fell silent, and the arguing voices grew louder, this time, the boy and the chancellor adding their own thoughts. She glanced over at the elderly man. He did not look like he had long left. Blood sept into the white tunic, staining it beyond help. She couldn’t focus on any of the words. Her vision began swimming as she felt her face begin to burn. She tried to speak, to tell either of them something, but nothing would come out, and soon all she saw was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we think? I'm so keen for Solas' plan to be revealed. And soon we're really gonna start getting into the main AU plot.   
> So much happens after the Vir'Abelasan and I can't waaaaaaait, but it's so far awaaaaaay. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Ma’enasal = My joy  
> Ma’harellan = Harellan is in the Dalish is known as deceiver, however, in Arlathan it had meant trickster or, more specifically rebel. In this context, it’ll mean “my rebel.”  
> Sathan dirth ma tel’theneras = Please, tell me I am not dreaming.  
> Shadera = flirt  
> Ma’asha = my woman


	18. More Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aravae learns of Solas plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me this far. Wow, 18 chapters in and people are still reading. Neat.

Her head thumped painfully as she awoke with the gasp, sitting up too quickly. She groaned loudly, pressing a shaky palm to it, trying to send small trickles of healing magic through it. Hopefully, to help ebb the pain slightly. It wasn’t helping much; she couldn’t focus with the throbbing. Luckily, another hand quickly overtook her own.

“Atisha. You held more wounds than we had thought.” It was a familiar tone. She opened her eyes, squinting at the firelight in the distance. They were in an open tent, most likely medical by his words. She looked around after the blur in her eyes faded. Her head instantly feeling better as she felt Solas’ hand pull away.

“Where are we?” Her eyes tried to take in the mountains around them, but the air was filled with snow, falling heavily as freezing winds swept around them. Instead, she took in the sight of others freezing, huddling together, around fires for warmth. They were no longer in Haven.

“Much happened once you fell unconscious. Felassan took care of you while the rest of the circle continued to fight.” She furrowed her brows, half believing he had been part of some crazed fever dream. It was nice to know otherwise.

“Continue? Do we know who we were even fighting? Who was their leader?” She watched as he fell silent. His eyes darkened as he quickly broke her gaze. She instantly knew something was wrong.

“Solas. Who is our enemy?” He sighed for a brief moment before continuing.

“His name is Corypheus. One of the original Magisters of Tevinter that travelled into the fade and released the Banalhan.” Her frown grew more profound at the knowledge.

“How is he alive? Humans did not have immortality, even during Arlathan.” She was confused, and she watched as the man before her seemed to turn even more sombre. Darkness clutching at the edges of him in ways she had not seen before. He had held sorrow, anger, even guilt that he did not wish for her to see. He could not hide it, however. But this. This was more than that. She could not place the emotion.

“As I had once thought.” Confusion clouded her mind. What did he mean? But she didn’t get an answer before he continued.

“He… was the one who caused the conclave. Using an old relic from our time.” He was being vague. Her eyes narrowed.

“The relic the Herald has been trying to locate for you.” It was not a question. His ears dropped slightly, unknowing to him. It was a tell for her. She was correct. Solas was always a terrible liar, he knew. It was why he used tricks and deception to outwit his foes. It was easy to tell the truth, and omit parts. Believable. It was also why he had her and Felassan. They could lie for him. They were much better at it.

“Yes.” She growled gently in warning at his lack of response. 

“Solas.” He turned away from her, his fingers twitching with unease. Other than that, he was dead still. He was afraid. But why? She inhaled deeply through her nose. Anger would not work. He would merely shut her out. He knew how to deal with anger; he had faced it more often than not. It was the acceptance that caused him to stumble. It was her greatest asset as she stood beside him for so many eras. So, despite the annoyance and frustration that swirled within her, she released the breath and moved to kneel before him. She placed both of her hands against his cheeks and turned him to face her. Her forehead pressed to his so that he could not look away from her. She watched as pain flooded his blue-grey eyes; fear and regret swirled with it. She was nervous. Nervous about what he would tell her. What he would reveal. She had a feeling this was what had kept him at a distance, what occupied his mind when he stood alone and allowed the weight of his thoughts to fall on him. She had always known there was more to the breach than just mages and templars. It was far older magic at play. But she did not believe a Magister alone had that power. Her mind flashed back to the Temple. Standing on the balcony with her arrow draw, her eyes focused on Ellana’s hand as it threaded the veil tightly closed. She frowned.

“Sathan. Trust me, ma’falon. What is the relic he has obtained?” She felt him stiffen further beneath her fingertips. His own coming to rest above her hands as if to remove them. But they did not. Instead, they paused on her hands as he looked down at her, his eyes almost completely shut as if looking at her caused the pain.

“My foci.” She blinked. _His_ foci. Her mind once again flashed to the Herald's hand. The green magic pouring from the mark. _His_ magic. It clicked. That’s why it had seemed so familiar to her when she focused on it. When it had been enhanced by so much magic. It felt of him. Fen’Harel. When Solas was his most powerful, his ability to completely master the fade that made him a God to others. She breathed slowly, trying not to react to his words.

“That is what caused the rift. He opened it.” She felt Solas nod, ever so slightly. Had she not been pressed to him, she doubted she would have seen it. The foci were made for each Evenuris. By their own hands. A powerful focus, filled with their own magic. The most potent concentration of their magic. It could enhance their specific powers in ways that seemed impossible for most mages. And it was. Most had made them as symbols of their control—a display to others.

From memory, once unlocked, June could manipulate all solid materials; everything was at his disposal to use, even castles, mountains, temples. Everything. Falon’din could summon the spirits from those alive. Rendering the body at his complete disposal. Dirathmen’s was rumoured to allow him to read the minds of any in his way. Sylaise could resurrect those fallen. Her healing could bring the spirits back to the body. Ghilan'nain’s had been the ability to summon all creatures at will. Griffons, dragons, wyverns, everything. Andruil’s power enhanced her capabilities. Although to many, it would not seem as great as the others. She was the greatest hunter amongst all of Thedas, killing her own slaves for the sport when one considered. None could hide from her with the magic of her foci at hand. Not even other Evenuri. Lastly, was Elgar’nan and Mythal. Elgar’nan could call forth terrible wraths. Fires that could destroy entire cities in one fell swoop. None would survive. Mythal’s had never been known. Many believed she had one as the others did, but it had never been sighted or used. So, they thought.

She sighed at the thoughts. And then there was Fen’Harel’s foci. His magic so tethered to the fade; you could control it with the orb. Not just close them as the Herald had done, either. Complete manipulation of it. Though Aravae highly doubted the young elf would ever be able to do anything other than close rifts. It took more than enough of her energy to do just that. It could also, apparently, completely veil the fade from others. She closed her eyes in sudden exhaustion. She was foolish to not have made the connection initially. Of course, he would use it to seal the Evenuris away. But that did not explain how it came to the hands of a magister.

“How?” There were so many questions. How did he even open it? His own magic must have been strong, but it wouldn’t stop the initial blast from killing him. It had toppled an entire temple, killing thousands. How was he still alive? How did he even get the orb? _She_ hadn’t even known it still existed. There was no way Solas would allow it to fall into the hands of anyone that seemed to wish destruction. She stilled. He would not allow it. But the Magister had it.

“Solas’ what have you done?” There was fear in her voice, resignation. It had already been done. The Temple had already been destroyed, the Divine lost, many killed. There was nothing that could be done to change that, but the fire of anger still coursed through her veins. And suddenly, the cold of the mountains were no longer so noticeable. She glared up at the man, who refused to look at her, pulling his face from her grasp.

“I… underestimated.” The voice was reserved. His face now stone as he looked back at her. She wanted to scream. Scream at the man who now seemed so far away from her. Scream at his lack of response. His lack of empathy. Did he not realise? Realise how many people he had killed with his ‘underestimation’? How many _more_ would die before they could find this _fucking_ Magister who held _a god’s foci at his disposal._ She wanted to scream. To slap him. If only to try and make him react to her. She could not handle this coldness. This was not him. This man who looked at death by his own doing and seemed unfazed. It was the reaction of an Evenuris. When their people died by their hands, uncared for and abandoned. She hissed and turned from him. Forcing herself to look away as the thoughts raced through her mind. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to fight the anger and sadness that coursed through her very being. Forcing her to shake under the emotions.

Blue-grey eyes softened as the women turned from him. He felt his hardened resolve shatter. It was always so hard to keep around her. Never had she been on the receiving end of his silence. He did not wish for her to be. Yet, he did not know how to react. She was always too bright. It was what had drawn him to her all those centuries ago. Her curiosity, her wit, her mind. She had made him see things he had been turned blind to. She had been the reason he had seen Mythal’s own mistakes. His friendship causing him to turn a blind eye. Frustration coursed through him. He wanted to hold her. Wanted to whisper his regrets and apologise to her. He knew. _He knew._ Just how much his thoughtless decisions had cost. The lives they had destroyed. His hands forever bloodied by the innocent, even if he had not been the one to kill them himself. It was what drove him forward. He would endure the pain. Endure the guilt and the blame. He would revive his world, his people. Because if he didn’t, then what had all these deaths been for. He went to open his mouth to explain. He stepped forward quietly and raised a hand to place on her shoulder, but it froze. He felt his mouth dry, unwilling to speak. His shame too strong. He did not deserve her understanding. Her sympathy for his wrongs. He did not deserve her. Instead, he stepped back once more and left. It was better this way. Better she remained untainted from his own wrongs. Better they fell apart than cause her pain later. There was only death where he could lead. His death would atone his mistakes once he rebuilt their empire and freed his people once more. But first, he needed to speak with the Herald.

It took time, but eventually, she had calmed the storm that raged in her. So many emotions that needed an outlet, but she had none. She cursed softly as she turned around, willing herself to ask more question, but he was gone. Nothing remained. As if she had been alone the entire time. The cold seemed to pierce her chest. The elf fell to her knees once more and wept. Wept in hopes, it would pour the emotions from her soul. Grieved for the souls that had been lost for nothing but greed. Mourned for her friend that was lost in his own guilt. She knew. This was not him. This was not her friend. Not the God who stood for rebellion, stood against the strongest of them in the name of the people, freed slaves so they could experience freedom, trained those so they could protect themselves, danced with children around fires to make them smile despite the pain they had endured. She didn’t know how long she remained there. Tears falling from her eyes as she held herself. She had not realised how cold she was until another’s arms wrapped around her. The warmth surrounding her frozen body as she fell into their grasp. Letting herself be pulled into his lap as he gently rubbed circles in her back and held her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her head against his shoulder. The tears subsiding as she sat, trying to steal his warmth.

“He is lost.” Her voice was hoarse from crying, barely above a whisper. A soft sound of agreement came from her companion.

“I know.” There was sorrow in his voice. She felt her heartache.

“You know of his plans.” It was not a question. She heard the elf sigh heavily and nod in confirmation.

“Yes. I gave Corypheus the orb under his orders.” There was an audible swallow as she took in the new information. A sigh left her as she leaned into him. Silently telling him, she was still there. He relaxed beneath her.

“Why do you keep following?” She knew the answer. The same reason she had when she learnt he had created the veil.

“Because this isn’t what he wants. Not really. Something is holding him, but I am unsure what.” She furrowed her eyebrows at his words. But they seemed to hold the truth. This was not their friend. Not Fen’Harel, nor Solas.

“He planned to take down the veil with the orb.” She had realised after he silently admitted he had let the Magister take the foci. Little pieces of information slowly adding together. His silent sorrow, the weight that seemed to cling to him, his involvement with the Inquisition in its earliest stages. His eagerness to help the Herald find his foci, the mark on the Herald's hand that he kept constant tabs on. Him knowing who Corypheus was. Even Felassan. He was a spy, as she had assumed. If Solas planned to destroy the veil, they would need allies. Felassan’s domain. She chuckled without humour. She wondered how long it would take for the others to find out. Far longer, she would assume. They did not have the information she did. Did not know him as she did.

“He’s consumed with guilt. He wishes for our old lives.” She sighed and lifted her hand to rest on her friends’ face, turning him to look at her. His eyes were tired, filled with sorrow as she knew her own were.

“So do I.” He weakly smiled back at her.

“How could we not?” The silent agreement hung in the air. This was not the way. There had to be another. All this would do is end in regret as the creation of the veil had done.

“What can we do?” His smile suddenly turned more genuine. She narrowed her eyes slightly in confusion.

“I. Cannot do anything. I’m just a pesky younger brother.” She snorted gently. The two had a weird dynamic. But she supposed she could not comment much; their own would be viewed weird by the world around them.

“But you. You are his light, da’asha. If he has ever listened to anyone, it has always been you.” She frowned gently, not entirely believing she could hold that much of a sway over him. He seemed too certain despite his sadness. He had been cold to her for the first time in their very long lives.

“I do not know if I am able… he is distant from me. In more than just secrets. I do not understand why.” This revelation merely ended in a snort of quiet laughter. She looked back at him in confusion, only to see him stare in bored disbelief.

“What?” He shook his head and laughed quietly.

“I have no idea how you two have been inseparable for lifetimes and still remain so clueless.” She knitted her eyebrows together and frowned in offence.

“We are not clueless.” Her tone was high as she pouted at him. He grinned and pinched her cheek in response.

“And even with all this knowledge, you still defend him.” She pulled her face away from his hands and stuck her tongue out defiantly. But she admitted defeat. She did. She still cared for him.

“I’d accept your offer, but I’m afraid this tent isn’t _that_ private, and people would talk.” Her face flamed red as she heard his voice lower and whisper into her ear. Only to end in laughter as she wrinkled her nose and pushed him away from her, a smile once again on her lips.

“ _Even if it was, you’d be too loud.”_ She switched to their native tongue, encase anyone had decided to begin eavesdropping on the two. She doubted it, but they should remain half cautious. The quip only made him smile wider.

 _“I believe that’s a compliment.”_ She laughed and began to stand, stretching out after spending so long in awkward positions. Thankful that her friend was by her side once more. She did not know how she would have continued without him. She turned to the camp, noticing others had gathered around the Herald, who looked confused. She watched in intrigue as they began to sing. A small smile filled her lips.

“Shemlen are strange.” She chuckled deeply at his words and nodded in agreement. Yes. But they were also so very similar to them. Song was stronger than many realised. It brought people together. It brought hope and happiness. Something these people needed desperately. And it seemed their Herald would be more than their hope. She would be their saviour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have way too much fun writing Felassan. I’m tempted to eventually write small oneshots about their lives while in Arlathan. If only to just write these two cause they cute as well. 
> 
> Maybe it’s just me being critical, but I feel like I can’t establish a serious mood or environment properly. It always feels too casual, and I’m not sure how to fix it. Do you guys feel that way? I’m super open to honesty. It helps me improve. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Atisha: Peace.   
> Sathan = Please  
> Banalhan: Place of nothing. Ancient term for the blight, or where it came from.   
> Sathan = Please


	19. His Motivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aravae finally confronts Solas about his secrets. She learns why he continues despite his own guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I've rewritten a section of this chapter. I did not like how it flowed when I originally posted, and could not move on from this until it felt fixed. I hope you enjoy it!

The travel to Tarasyl'an Te'las was tedious. To say the very least. The Herald and Solas had travelled ahead of everyone, scouting for a place only Solas really knew of. She sighed as she pictured the stone fortress. It had been one of Solas many forts; this one, in particular, was where they had spent much of their time planning. It was large enough to hold many, secure enough to witness any oncoming danger and secluded enough that many would not bother or risk death by the hands of a god and his armies. She could feel the cold mountain air swirl over her, but the heating glyph kept her warm as she continued to make sure no one was left too far behind. She had watched for days as Felassan would weave between people and help in any way he could. Whether it was helping lead carts, feeding the animals or merely playing with bored children so their parents wouldn’t go completely insane during the long trek. She would smile quietly at it all. He never could sit still for long. Always needing to be doing something. A quirk she had gotten familiar with a long time ago. His stamina was incredible due to this. Her face heated pink as she remembered his words from days before. She cleared her throat silently before another thought popped to mind.

She wondered how Solas’ was. Of course, all ancient Elvhen held far more stamina than their counterparts; they were immortal, they had to. It was the reason wars could wage for so many centuries; their soldiers could always keep fighting. The young Solas had been a fighter. His temper far too out of control that he would goad others into throwing the first punch. She knew he simply enjoyed the adrenaline, practising his magic in combat. She had not known him during his earliest years. He had once told her he was glad she had not, as he was regretful of how arrogant he was. Although, he shared his memories with her as they travelled the fade. It was half the reason she wished to become an elf. His world was so interesting, so intriguing and filled with thousands of curiosities. She had also enjoyed his purpose. His fight for freedom. She shared it in many ways, even as a spirit. She sighed softly at the fuzzy memories. It was a part of her life she had forgotten.

Suddenly as felt a presence at her side; knowing who it was before he spoke. No other had spoken to her during their travels. Everyone was too caught up in their own thoughts. They had just lost their home to a presumed dead Magister with a blighted dragon. Felassan had been kind enough to tell her the rest of the events since she had fallen unconscious. She had also presumed they were curious, if not cautious, of the new body almost always by her side if he was not busy helping the other workers. She highly doubted the many flirtatious winks and smiles had gone unnoticed, especially by a certain dwarf that had only shaken his head at her and laughed to himself in passing. Her quiet acceptance of them would also be remarked as peculiar since the only other people she had conversed with regularly were scouts, Varric and Solas. Only for a random elf to appear _very_ friendly at her side. She had thought to mention it to him, to at least try a preserve some of their secrets but she quickly realised she did not wish to. Solas was suddenly consumed with helping the Herald more, and although she understood his reasoning, especially now. She couldn’t help but lament the small moments they would share with one another were now scares. No surprise fade visits, or sneaking out of Haven to drink with one another in solitude. She missed it, greatly. More than she would admit openly. Yet, since Felassan had arrived, she felt the cold embrace of loneliness that had begun to creep back dissolve just as quickly as it had arrived. Instead, it had been him who kept her the most company, joining her in the fade at night, while dragging her along to do tasks with him. She enjoyed it, really. Giggling as she would help the children chase the man, helping them scheme up ways to catch him off guard.

It had quickly become a game to try and steal his stick. She had laughed when he told her how many times he was cornered by grinning children who would grab for the disguised staff he usually kept stored in his belt. It was strange to see him walk around with a stick, if you didn’t know what it truly was. Naturally, kids had picked up on that. Right now, she could hear him breathing slightly heavier. Obviously having run to her side. She gave him a look, but her smile could not be suppressed, to which he reciprocated.

“They like you.” She referred to the children he’d been playing with just moments prior.

“What’s not to like?” She snorted a scoff at his smug tone and shook her head.

“They like you too, though I’m not surprised. You always did seem to draw them in.” Her smile dropped slightly, her mind returning to the moss-covered ground of that dreaded forest. She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders at they continued to walk at the back of the ground, hoods raised in the cold. None would particularly notice them unless they were looking for them.

“Do not dwell on such thoughts, da’asha. It was not your fault. They were happiest with you, remember that.” His voice was soft, forgiving in a way she could never be with herself. But she appreciated it none-the-less. Children were sacred in Arlathan. In a world of immortals, they were not common by any means. She loved them though. She had helped take care of those brought to Fen’Harel’s sanctuary. Along with Felassan. His attitude now, much the same as back then. That of an older brother. She smiled briefly at the memories. She should remember the positive ones more, but it was so difficult when they were ladened with her greatest regrets.

“I will try.” She leaned into his side more, seeking the comfort only he could give her with such thoughts. Only three living people knew of that day. One was currently ignoring her. She sighed at the thought, the wish to be back in Arlathan, with no real troubles or responsibilities was strong. Her then, companion now by her side, only made the want stronger.

They had truly been inseparable once. Both having known the weight of being a god’s right and left hand. His eyes where his own could not travel. Her time spent with him had been where she learnt how to be someone. More than a spirit in an elf’s body. She smiled gently at the memories.

“What do you think of?” Violet eyes twinkled as he watched her, lost in her own thoughts as the world around them grew dimmer by the hour. They would have to break soon or risk doing so in darkness.

“Us. Back when we did not need to worry about Magisters and Veils.” She hummed gently in thought, but he laughed lightly.

“I can’t say worrying about being discovered by sentinels, or the evenuris was better. Although the company still remains delightful.” He grinned at her, causing her to flush and laugh once again.

“Seems unfair that now the company is so large and doesn’t revolve around hunting and campfires.” Her tone was light, teasing. But her implication had not gone unnoticed by the man beside her. He huffed and came to stop with the rest of the people. Seemingly to begin setting up camp for the night.

“I think we could still get away with it.” His voice was low in her ear, causing her to shudder as he walked away from her. She tried to force the red from her cheeks before she followed him to help pitch tents with the others.

\---

\---

“Someone’s becomes awfully chummy with the working hands.” She blew the steam from her stew before taking a bite. She wanted to roll her eyes. It hadn’t taken him very long to ask her about it at all.

“Am I supposed to remain “better than everyone?” Her voice was teasing but still held an edge as she recited Sera’s previous thoughts on her. The dwarf sighed before taking a seat beside her.

“Don’t take it to heart, she’s… different. Probably had some bad shit happen to her. Besides, now she can’t argue that since you’re off flirting with the hands.” She snorted gently and rolled her eyes.

“I am not.” She was. And Varric only gave her a look of pure disbelief.

“Well, you might wanna go tell our resident Chuckles then. He’s been extra uptight the last few days. Lucky thinks it’s because of Haven but I’m sure it’s just the crush talking.” She coughed suddenly, the stew taking on a much different root at his words. She knew the woman had something for Solas… she wasn’t the greatest at hiding it between sweet looks and trying to touch him on any account she could… not that Aravae had been watching. Or cared. Not really. But none had actually said it allowed before, mostly in fear of her wraith if she were to hear.

“I’m sure whatever is bothering Solas, he can manage without my intervention.” She was short, she knew. He did not deserve her impatience. He stared at her for a moment, before a softness overtook his gaze.

“What happened? One moment, you two were sleeping together; yes, I noticed. Then next you’ve barely been seen together while he spends his time with the Herald and you’ve been seen making eyes at the new hand. Don’t give me that look; where in the middle of nowhere with a village full of people. We’re bored and we talk.” She snorted at that. She really should have been more careful. Although having her assumption that Solas was spending all his time with the Herald was… unsettling. She pushed the thought away, unknowing how to respond.

“We… it’s been a long time. Since we have seen each other. Things have changed… I guess we’re just learning how much.” The response was quiet, and a weak attempt to explain without really explaining. She felt bad at holding back so much from him. Despite their differences, he had been the only one really willing to open up to her. He treated her as if a friend, not that they were best friends by any means, but he was kind and he seemed genuine with his worry.

“I get that, but… Look. You two have something going on. It’s obvious to everyone. Even Ellana. But the longer you two continue to ignore one another, the more chance she thinks she’s got. And Chuckles isn’t nearly as pleasant in her company as he is yours. Assuming he is ever pleasant company.” She laughed lightly at the joke. Her cheeks tinged at his bluntness, however. She knew. Of course, she had realised she had feelings for her friend. Stronger feelings than just that of friendship. She wondered when they had developed. Was it just since they had re-met? Or had it been before? Had the butterflies that filled her chest when he would smirk at her from within a crowd been more? She closed her eyes. Of course, it had. But he was a god. And she was just his friend. Until now. With that, she realised she needed to speak with him. His plans did not change how she felt. And for all her careful patience and elegance you could only attain from centuries of life; she’d be damned if she left some little Dalish girl beat her.

With that, she placed her empty bowl with the others and nodded to Varric. He seemed content with her silence before she walked away, towards the magic signature she knew so well. Yet there was another with it. She knew both of them too well. Her steps slowed as she walked behind a row of tents, her dark hood hiding her better in the shadows. Emerald eyes gazed forward at the sight of her friend eating, the Herald leaning against his side was a small smile as they conversed. She felt herself freeze. Unknowing of how to react to the sight before her. But before she could think properly, blue-grey eyes met her own, his own smile slipping from his lips. He seemed to want to call out to her but she turned away quickly, wanting the sudden bombardment of emotions to leave her. So, she decided to go to the only place she knew she would not be bothered by them. Her dreams.

\---

\---

It had taken some time for the fade to decide on a place to establish around her. Her emotions were still reckless inside of her, unknowing of where she wished to go. Only knowing she did not wish to be awake. Eventually, she felt a familiar presence, and a brush of fur against her leg. A small smile curled on her lips.

“Happiness.” It had been then the world around her suddenly slowed and developed into a forest, lighter than the one her friend usually hid in. Its trees were tall and white. Small animals scurried around them as a green tent was pitched only metres from where they stood, a small fire ready to burn once darkness hit. She smiled at the sight, the memory.

“He makes you happy too.” The wolf beside her bounded over to the camp, looking around excitedly as she smiled warmly.

“Yes. He does.” She soon heard voices, familiar ones. She began to walk further into the woods, away from the camp while her companion followed. Soon she came to a stop at the sight of her younger self and Felassan standing in a small open area. They were clad in rich brown leathers and white silk tunics. Gold bands wrapped around their wrists to their forearms. Felassan stood beside her, as she aimed her bow at the target. A single, small feather pressed to the bark of a tree. She heard the familiar twang of her string release and hit the gold armbands. Her memory self-hissing at the sound. She couldn’t help but chuckle along with the man.

 _You need to stop being so hard on yourself, da’asha. You are doing well._ There was no sound, but she knew what he had said to her. He had spent so many centuries teaching her how to use weapons. The bow taking the longest. She was terrible at it when she first started. A soft sigh left her lips as she watched the two. He stood directly behind her; his body pressed flush to her back as his arm wrapped around her own that notched the arrow. His other hand wrapped around hers to hold the bow steady as he drew back with far more ease than she had. _Relax, deep breath, and release._ It hit. An inch lower than her original shot. Directly into the feather. Her eyes travelled back to the two who remained pressed to one another, unmoving from their spot. She continued to watch herself turn to him, her cheeks bright red which only made herself laugh. No wonder he made fun of her so often. She looked ridiculous when she blushed. It only took a moment before her bow hit the ground forgotten and his lips pressed to her own hungrily. Despite her previous thoughts, she couldn’t help the red that tinged her cheeks as she looked away. Feeling as though she was invading someone’s privacy even though it was her own memory. It did not stop the tingling sensation of the memory. She had lived these moments; they would not be so easily suppressed.

“Good to know I’m not the only one who remembers this.” She gasped loudly and dispelled the memory without another thought. Her head lifted to the voice in the trees. Violet glittered down at her in smug amusement. She huffed and turned away, going to speak to Happiness. But it was gone. She frowned. When had it left? She had been too focused on her memory, clearly. She felt him fall behind her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as she leaned back into his embrace.

“What troubles you, da’asha? You did not find me for dinner and returned to sleep early. Although, I can’t blame you if this is what you wished to dream of.” His concern was still noticeable behind the jest, but it did not stop the sound of smugness that radiated off of him. She huffed slightly and pinches his hip, causing him to flinch and pout.

“Mean. I’m not the one dreaming about us having-“ She pushed home back off her with a laugh, tired of his teasing. He hit the ground with a grunt but remained there with an easy smile, his entwined behind his head as he lounged back into the grass.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.” His cheeky grin never leaving his lips as she rolled her eyes and sit by his side. More than he would ever now.

\---

\---

After what felt like weeks of travelling but was mere days, the giant structure finally came to view. She stopped behind the mass of villagers, watching as they continued down the slopes, suddenly energetic and enthusiastic at the sight of shelter. Of home. She let the cold snow float around her, emerald eyes taking in the view of the fort. It was damaged, as she had imagined. It was still as magnificent as it had once been. She wondered if this had always been a part of Solas’ plan. To bring them here. To help repair what had been lost. It would be much easier with such a force behind it. Eventually, she began to walk again, her steps steady as they all neared the stone bridge. Emotions flooded her from ages past. So much of her history still stood, although in ruins. She did not know why she had not travelled there on her own. Perhaps then it had been too painful. To see something so lost to this world, a reminder of all she had lost… who she had thought she had lost.

Her eyes searched forward, trying to sight her friend, but it was impossible in the sea of tightly grouped people. She resigned herself to the fact he would most likely avoid her after last night. She swallowed. She still did not know how to deal with this new knowledge or the sight of the Herald and him so close. She knew she would stay by him; how could she not? Felassan’s words had not left her head. _It is not what he really wants._ She could believe it. Her friend would never wish to cause such destruction. His shame and guilt over the deaths at the conclave had been enough evidence. One who wished nothing but death upon this world would not be so empathetic to its people. She could not understand what drove him, however. What forced him to keep on this path when it had already caused such great sorrow to others and himself? What was his reasoning? The questions were continuous, but she would get no answers. Not yet, at least. She resigned herself to the fact she would have to corner him eventually. At least here, there was no place to hide that she did not also know of. Another memory of them hiding away in small railings of chambers entered her mind. He would lay against the beams, one knee bend and propped against the rail while the other dangled from the scaffold. She would lay back against his chest after he had stolen her from one of her chores and tell her stories of the fade, where he had been his plans and thoughts. Anything that would come to mind as they enjoyed each other’s presence. Thankful to steal a moment of solitude when all were busy, and he was so crucial to it all.

She sighed wistfully once more and followed the masses into the gates of the castle. Her eyes scanning the familiar place, images of what had once been floated into her mind, although they were no longer there. Leaving the place baron and lifeless. It was sad. It had once been so full of life. It would be again; she had no doubt. Eventually, she witnessed as the Herald and advisors scaled the main steps into the hall. Her eyes quickly looked around to find him, but she could not see in the herds of people who had already begun to unload carts while others shouted orders. She hummed to herself and decided to find a more welcoming friend instead. She would help the people find their places, for she knew the place better than many from her own age, let alone theirs.

\---

\---

It had been days since they first arrived. The Inquisition held no hesitation in clearing out the broken beams and furniture from previous occupants. She had initially wondered who else had used this place during their sleep. Thinking to explore it further from the fade, she realised she wished to do so with someone else. Who, she had rightly assumed, had been avoiding her. She sighed softly. It was not entirely him, however. She knew where he was. All of the circle had soon found their own little niches to hide away in. Many chose the Tavern or training fields around it. A certain Tevinter had occupied the once-grand library. And he had chosen the rotunda to spend his time. She was not surprised. It was close to the library and the spymaster. His keen ears would be able to pick up on much. She was a coward, she knew. She needed to speak with him, needed to hear what he had to say. Even if he did not wish to say it. It did not mean that she was not afraid of the answers she would receive.

 _“What holds your mind, da’asha?”_ Came a careful voice from the doorway. She looked up from the book she hadn’t been reading to see her former lover leaning effortlessly against her doorframe. Or their, she supposed. She had taken one of the rooms along the ramparts, close to the Commander's quarters, she had quickly realised. With Felassan’s help, they managed to clean out the room and replace it with a simple bed and a desk. It was all she really needed along with him. She was grateful to not sleep alone; instead, happy to be held in his arms each night as he whispered about his journeys to her. Told her of his underling, a bright young woman from what he had told her. She was eager to meet her. She hummed gently at his words.

 _“You’re leaving soon.”_ It left an emptiness in her heart. Although she knew he must in order to keep his identity intact. She was sad to lose him again. Even more so now that she was being ignored by her only other companion. It was silly, but she feared sleeping alone once more. She had been spoiled for company after so long alone. She was terrified that she would only end up alone forever once more. Sensing her unease, the other elf entered the room swiftly and knelt before her. One of his hands cupping her cheek while the other held her hand to his chest. She could feel the steady beats beneath her fingertips. Heat escaping from the thin tunic he wore as he spoke.

“ _I will return, da’asha. I will never leave you forever.”_ The words were comforting in a small way, but they were not enough to relinquish the sorrow. She moved her book to the side and fell into his lap once more. 

“ _I’m scared he won’t accept me again.”_ The words fell from her lips almost silently. The truth of her suppressed emotions suddenly rearing its ugly head. She should be stronger. She should be able to handle herself alone. She had done so before finding them. Yet, she did not want to. She did not wish to be alone again. Did not want to be shunned by her own kin again. Especially her true kin. She would follow him anywhere. That was her promise. Her purpose. He had given her life beyond the fade. Happiness, sorrow, anger, freedom. She owed more to him than she ever honestly told him. So, she would follow, no matter his path. She did not believe in it, but she could be his voice of reason once more. If only he would allow it of her.

“ _You’re both so clueless_.” It was sighed from the others mouth, humour edged into the words. She furrowed her eyebrows once again and looked to him, wondering once again what he had meant.

“ _I know you’ve been hiding in this room for the past few days, but I would have thought for sure someone would have come to gossip about the sad elf, brooding in the rotunda. I know the servants have been._ ” She frowned in slight disbelief.

“ _You could have informed me_.” He merely grinned at her.

 _“I know. But he ruined our first meeting, and I haven’t forgiven him for it.”_ She snorted at his attitude and rolled her eyes. 

“ _You’re both children_.” He chuckled and nuzzled his face into the side of her neck, pressing his lips against the pulse that thudded heavily.

“ _Yet, you’re still here_.” His voice was low as she shuddered under his touch. Heat burned against her skin as she turned to him once more, their eyes meeting. The violet gazed filled with warmth in an oh so familiar look that had once sent her blood boiling with want. It still had the same effect, but before anything could be said, the other closed his eyes and groaned as if in pain. His forehead falling to her own.

“ _I am surprised it has taken you both this long to realise… I am grateful for all you have given me, da’asha. But you are not mine any longer. You are not bound to me.”_ She lifted her hand to his cheek, guiding his face to look up at her. The sorrow strong in his gaze. It hurt her to see. But she understood his words. They had been lovers once. So many centuries ago. And although she may still love him, and he, her… it was no longer the same. Love was complicated when you were immortal. So, few lasted the tests of time. But she did not regret it. She would not regret him.

“ _I still long for you by my side, ma’enasal_.” Her voice was soft; she feared if she spoke too loudly, it might crack under the emotion she held back. He smiled in return.

“ _As do I, da’asha. I will always return to you.”_ His thumb swept away the single tear that escaped from her lashes. She smiled back at him and leaned forward to place a single kiss against his cheek before she stood.

“I should speak to him.” The man nodded and watched as she left. His mood dropping as he heard the sound of the wooden door latch shut. He sighed heavily as he leaned back against the bed, all manner of humour and grins vanishing as he stared up into the rafters of the room. He still loved her. More then she would ever realise. She’d never know how hard it was to see the same glow in her eyes once directed at him, to turn to another.

“Fenedhis.” He cursed quietly, rubbing his temple with his fingers. The stupid old wolf was lucky; it was him. Lucky, he cared enough for them both to push his own desires down. Had it been anyone else… If Solas hurt her, it would be the last he would see of them both. Friend or not.

\---

\---

She walked slowly toward the main hall. Felassan had been right; she had not left her room much over the last few days. Huddled in with some books she had stolen from a pile in the library and eating only what the servants would bring her. They were nice. Fearful of her for some reason, but she had tried to be kind and gentle with them. She hoped it would help ease them of their fear eventually. She sighed as she managed to pass through Cullen’s study while he was away. She was half annoyed at the idea she would need to go through it every time she wished to speak with Solas… if he ever allowed her too again. She huffed at herself. She was being ridiculous, and she knew. It did not help the nerves that swelled up inside of her once she stood outside of the door that led to his current study. She swallowed audibly before lifting a hand to push the door open. Once open, she hesitated before entering ever so slowly. One-foot, two-foot, one-foot, two-foot. She repeated the mantra in her head, trying to focus on anything but the conversation she knew would be coming. However, as she soon stood in the middle of the rotunda, she realised his seat was empty, and he was nowhere to be found. She sighed heavily. Of course. Was he running from her? It didn’t sound like him. He may have been avoiding but outward running away seemed far fetched for the prideful man. She decided to try and find him. Otherwise, she would only end up alone in her room once more, and then who knew if they would ever speak again.

With her mind made up, she began to exit the room into the main hall. It was much tidier than when they had first arrived. The bricks and such had been removed, and long tables had been pulled in. She assumed so feasts could be had in company at the end of the day. She realised just how anti-social she had been since arriving here. There was a good chance everyone had picked up on it… and apparently Solas’ attitude as well. She groaned lowly. Varric was going to have a field day when he finally saw her. She looked around the hall; people stood about, mostly Orlesian’s gossiping with one another. Their masked faces felt odd in such a runned down looking space. She scanned the room and briefly wondered where else he could be. Doubtful the Tavern. Too many people he didn’t like. She snorted in quiet laughter. Perhaps he was with the Herald? She felt like she’d been swiftly kicked to the stomach at the thought. She pushed the idea away and shook her head. She would look for him, and if she could not find him, then she would assume he was with her… for some reason. She hummed before a place suddenly entered her mind. It was the most likely if he wished to be alone without the gossiping eyes of others on him. She walked towards the second door on the left side of the hall. Despite how many thousands of years it had been, she had roamed these halls daily for thousands as well. She remembered all of it like it was yesterday. She quietly pushed the door open and stepped around. She did not feel like alerting anybody to her presence. She doubted many had even found these halls yet. The servants the most likely as they were connected to the kitchens, but otherwise, they were oddly well hidden in plain sight.

She ventured down the steps quietly, eyeing her surroundings as she entered each room. They were covered in dust and cobwebs. Yes, it was unlikely anyone had ventured down here yet. Other than one who knew of it. She walked slowly, a sense of de ja vu hitting her hard as she remembered the path she once walked so often. It felt like a completely different life. Perhaps, arguably, it was. She slowly made it to the door of his old study. Hidden away in short corridors. One you would pass if you did not know what you were looking for. She breathed deeply, her hand inches from the door before she tapped her usual rhythm. But there was nothing. No sound from within. No automatic opening of the door. She felt the nervous dissipate once more, replaced by disappointment. But as she turned to leave, she heard the slight creaking sound. Her head turned to find the door ajar, ever so slightly. The nerves came back with a vengeance. She swallowed before moving back to the door and pressing against it as it revealed the man she had both longed and feared to see.

She did not know why, but she imagined she would find him pouring over one of his too-large ancient tombs, dressed in his immaculate dark silks, the gold rings clutching his neck as they once did. His auburn hair, tied back with tiny jewels of gold, weaved through the locks. Instead, all she saw was a tired, bald elf, leaning against a dusty old desk in nothing but frayed rags and leather footwraps. Surrounded by cobwebs littering the wall of his once-beloved books behind him. Her eyes grew soft at the sight.

“Aravae.” His voice was hoarse like he had not spoken for a long time. It was soft as if hoping she was really there.

“Solas.” His shoulders dropped as she replied.

“I am a fool.” She hummed gently, in quiet agreement. But she closed the door behind her before stepping forward once again. She now stood within arm’s length.

“You have made foolish decisions; it does not make you a fool.” She would remain neutral. She needed to hear him speak. To tell her ultimately what he wished to achieve with these plans. The silence dragged on, but she would not break it to ease him. This was his chance.

“I have no doubt you realise what I planned to do.” His voice was still hoarse, but it was also filled with regret. His sadness showing through without reservation. And she knew. She knew this wasn’t what he wanted.

“You planned to destroy the veil. Allow Corypheus to open the orb which _should_ have killed him and place the Herald’s mark upon yourself.” He huffed in humourless laughter.

“What would have happened?” She had an idea. The world was destroyed with the veil's creation, doubtful it would survive the complete destruction of one. Not to mention if they did survive, how the chantry, Qunari, humans and even dwarves and elves would react to so much magic bared before them. Open to the fade once again in a world that was taught nothing but prejudice against it. There would be wars. So many wars.

“It would destroy this world. Allow our own to prosper once more.” She swallowed, her eyes closing at the clarification.

“It would not bring our people back.” At this, his shoulders hunched more, his head bowed.

“No. I planned to free those who would survive. They are not The People, but they could be once more. In generations surrounded by magic once more, we could gain back our immortality.” She sighed at the information. He wished to free them. Wanted to rebuild their empire. She… could not disagree with the idea. Their people were once again slaves, everything they had fought so hard against. The veil was an abomination, causing far more rifts between people than was intended. If everyone once again had magic, few could be opposed to it. She realised the appeal. The veil would not hold forever. It would eventually fall on its own. Solas’ magic was powerful, but it had been over five thousand years. It would fall. It explained why so many more mages were being born the more time grew on. It was tearing on its own.

“If the veil was to fall now… it would release the Evenuris.” She had no doubt they were still alive, locked away. Festering in hatred for their kin. Cursing his existence and waiting for the day they could enact their revenge. The thought caused her more pain than she would admit at this moment. There was a delay in his response, and she finally looked up once more to meet his stormy gaze.

“Yes.” She frowned deeply.

“They will kill you.” Another pause.

“Yes.” She growled lowly, furious at his words.

“Your death will not atone your actions, Solas. Especially if the Evenuris are set free. The world will only fall under their reign once again. These people have no power against them!” Her voice steadily raised, and she felt his magic flood the room. A barrier, so none could hear.

“I had plans.” She snorted in disbelief. Her fear clung to her tightly, realised just how much he had accepted his own death already.

“And what if they fail again? Who would we turn to?” There was a tremble in her voice now. Her neutral argument had been wholly abolished as her emotions soon ran wild with the notion that the Evenuris could once again roam their lands. Who would protect them if he was dead? No other had the power of the Evenuris. No other would be able to stand for them. But the man remained silent, his head once again lowered. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and stepped forward once more.

“Who are you?” She watched as he stiffened under the question, his head raised quickly as a frown carved itself into his lips.

“I am a man who has made mistakes and intends to fix them by any means possible.” She frowned back at him and shook her head. He stood, confused.

“You are not the man I know. The man I knew would not release the Evenuris on his people once more without a sure plan. Your death is not a plan; it is an escape from guilt. You will plunge your people back into slavery, and they will never escape. You had one chance, and you used it. You cannot erase it now.” Her words were bitter, they tasted sour on her tongue, but he needed to hear them. Someone needed to reach him. He was wallowing in guilt and sorrow, the weight of their people’s fate on his shoulders. She could not imagine how he felt. She could not imagine the guilt that pressed into his very soul. She felt for him. She truly did. But she could not let him kill himself to ease the pain. Not when so many lives still rested in his hands alone.

“The man I loved would have never accepted defeat. He would never have handed his people back over to those who enslaved them. He stood for rebellion for freedom. Thrived to give his people the best life he could, no matter how hard it seemed because to them, he was a God, a God of the people. When every other had abandoned them. Do not abandon us, Solas. Do not abandon me.” Tears streamed from her eyes as her voice trembled. The fear of their future was too much. She would not be a slave. She refused to bow to them. She refused to let anyone bow to them again. And she refused to lose him similarly. She needed him by her side. She did not wish to continue alone in this world anymore. Her tear blurred her vision, and she froze as she felt a warm hand glide over her jawline, ever so lightly. She swallowed as she lifted her hand, feeling it press against the chest that was now only inches from her own.

“I would never abandon you, ma’enlea.” The words were soft but sure. She felt a flutter in her chest at his words. But she pushed it aside.

“I don’t know that. I do not know you, Solas. Not this Solas. Mine despised the Evenuris; you would never have even entertained the thought of allowing them to roam once more just for a chance at our world to be rebuilt. It will only end the same. I do not understand what pulls you to this fate. This reckless decision. It is not yours.” She refused to believe it. The more she stood there and watched his regret, pain, guilt, sorrow, hatred. It was evident to her. It was not him that sought this path so virulently. He paused before her; his eyes once again lowered. But she would not relent. She stepped forward and pressed herself to him, her hands lifting to hold his face as she brought it to her eyes.

“Trust me, ma’falon. I have always been by your side. I have given you my everything. I will follow you, no matter your path. Please, I need to know if this is truly who you have turned into.” Her voice was still soft, still trembling, but she felt strong. She needed to know. She needed to be answered.

And then he broke. His jaw clenched tightly as his arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her closer. His face fell to her neck, and she could feel the warm flood of tears leak into her thin tunic. He shuddered beneath her grasp, and her heart wept for him. 

“I promised her.” She smoothed her hand over his head and listened carefully. His voice low, barely above a whisper, as he muttered into her neck.

“I promised her I would release them to save our people.” She closed her eyes tightly, anger blooming in her chest at the words. But it was not for him. Not for the man who broke under the pressure of his Creators wishes. Her anger burned for Mythal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OooOooo plot. So now we’re going off track. Welcome to AU territory, where Solas is a good guy, despite his questionable actions. Fanfiction means I get to make shit up. 
> 
> Also, I know I haven’t properly fleshed out Felassan’s and Aravae’s past and relationship very well. It’s difficult when I have all these ideas and events from the past in my head and I can’t find ways to apply them that fit well. So Instead, you get some idea of a past life between the two ending and its not as emotional as it should be. Maybe I’ll write these chapters again some time. 
> 
> Also, I’m sorry for those who are eager to jealous Solas. I PROMISE, it IS coming. I just feel like he wouldn’t allow it to show unless he actually had some established relationship with her already. It will come. I promise. 
> 
> Translation:  
> Tarasyl'an Te'las: Skyhold. Lit. Place where the sky was held back. Where Solas created the veil.


	20. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their conversation continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's the official chapter 20. Apologises it is very short, but it is very fluffy. Longer chapters to come and a more constant schedule will begin again. Thank you for your patience.<3

She didn’t know when they had moved or how. Somehow, she had ended up sitting on the dust-covered desk, her legs dangling over the side as his head rested in her lap. Her nails gently raking over his scalp, trailing down to his ears and collarbone in a familiar fashion. His ears would twitch at her touch, which only made her smile. His now dry eyes closed under her attention. She wondered if they would always be this way. They had many arguments and disagreements over the years. They were two different people, with two very different outlooks at times; it was bound to happen. Silence from one another had always been their way to manage. A way to consider the other's point of view, and often how much they missed each other in that time spent ignoring one another. To the point, one would always give eventually. It had so often been her; his pride continually kept him from giving in. But it had happened before. She hummed an old tune softly, her mind wandering back to now. This new information. She would be lying if she said she was surprised Mythal would demand such a thing from him. She was the All-Mother, mother to all the people… but her own blood would always come before those. She had made that clear when she allowed her people to be enslaved under them, hunted for sport, mutilated to serve, denied education and basic needs… She was not blind to the people’s plight. Her memories of that time were washed in nostalgia; her experience was also much different from the majority. She had always known freedom at Fen’Harel’s side. He never bound her to his servitude. She had grown in his sanctuary, where everyone had been free. Hidden away where the Evenuris would not find them for their own safety.

When she had grown enough, learnt how to defend herself and knew how the world outside truly worked beyond Solas’ memories, she had found her purpose. She would fight beside him; she would fight for others to experience the same freedoms she had been given because she could not imagine another way. Her people, Fen’Harel’s people, were happy. Educated in literature, language, hunting, weapons, defence, dance, cooking, and so many other things. When you were immortal, you had all the time in the world to learn new things. To master them and move on. Unlike now, where many chose one skill to master for their lives. She knew why she would return to his side, despite his ridiculous plan. He still wished for their freedom. Always hoped for the world they had promised to make all those thousands of years ago. But now, it was different. It had been corrupting by the force of Evenuris once again. She wanted to sigh but refrained. Mythal had been one of Solas’ more constant friends. She had given him life—much the same as he had given her. Mythal had never been a fan of her. She had been against the idea when Solas had asked her how to perform such a task. Why she had agreed to show him had always boggled her. She supposed he would have found a way anyway. Maybe she simply wished to continue as his giving friend. A sigh finally left the woman without her realising.

“What do you think of, ma’enlea?” His voice was still hoarse from the emotions he had broken under only minutes before. Or had it been hours? She did not know anymore. It had been so long since she sat in his presence, she merely wished to relish in it for as long as she could.

“I think of your future and your past.” She would be honest. She did not agree with his plans. Not entirely. Yet, she did not believe she could shake him from a promise to his friend. No matter how corrupt his friend had become. And she would forever believe the Goddess was corrupt for allowing her children to reign such terror on her people without intervention. She would say she did not understand Solas’ attachment, but she would be lying to herself. It was the same attachment she had to him. At the base of it, it was he who gave her life. As Mythal had him. Her feelings of connection and will to remain by his side where no different than his own. It did not mean she would not try to change his mind. The thought of his death only brought her anguish, and the thought of the Evenuris being free once again brought her anger. It was a stupid idea. A desperate idea. An Evenuris’ idea.

“I shall fulfil my promises. Yours, I will fulfil with pleasure, and hers I will atone for.” She clenched her jaw while her hand that caressed him paused. He had promised her he would free their people when she had promised she would stay by his side to help. She would keep her promise as well, but at this moment, she hated his pride. The pride that forced him to do all he could to please her. He may not have vallaslin, but he was still forever bound to Mythal. Just as Aravae was to him. In a way, they were never truly free. A single tear rolled down her cheek, a warm thumb brushing it away as the weight in her lap disappeared.

“Please do not cry for my sins, Aravae. Your tears are more precious than my life.” She felt more prickle at the back of her eyes. His voice was soft, only inches from her as his hand cupped her cheek.

“Nothing is more precious to me than your life, Solas.” She forced her eyes to open, willing the tears to not fall as he faced her. It was almost laughable. To sit in a room that was once filled with nothing by light wisps, floating about. Their shine illuminating thousands of books that were so carefully placed and maintained. Alphabetically. She knew because she would purposefully put books back in the wrong spots to see if he would notice. He, somehow, always did. Chiding her gently as she wrinkled her nose in disbelief. He would spend so much time in this spot when there had been an oversized cushioned chair, where he would sit and read for days. She would frequently come to annoy him, although he never reprimanded her for distracting him. She would lay over his desk, careful not to knock anything over, her head and hair falling off the side with a large grin. He would only smirk back and ask what she wanted. A small smiled suddenly curled on her lips, a faint heat pressing to her cheeks. _You._ She had always replied. He would laugh and say she already had that. If only she knew how true her words were back then… One day she had come to find the chair missing. Instead, he sat spread out on a larger seat. Long enough that he could lean on one side and his legs spread to the other, crossed as he flipped through his pages. She had been surprised, but he pulled her to him before she could take her usual seat. It had quickly become common for servants to find her leaning against his chest, their legs entwined as he read to her on that red seat.

“You taught me that all life was precious. All lives were worth more than what they had been given. It was why you fought. Why I fought. I believed you. I still do, ma’fen. It includes your own. Especially your own. If you are not here…” She felt her heart clench in pain once again. The images of seven powerful mages standing with their hands shrouded in their incredible power while sneers of delight on their faces as they looked down on him with blood that dripped from every orifice, kneeling before them in defeat… It tore her heart apart in ways she could not imagine. She did not want to imagine it. While her mind distracted her, she suddenly heard the wood of the desk creak. Rough yet gentle hands pressed to her hips with slight hesitation. She looked up finally, her previous thoughts having fled her as she felt him push to her. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up into the stormy blue-grey gaze of his own. Heat she had only seen in brief moments, on full display to her. She tried to speak and found the words would fall flat on her tongue as he closed his eyes quickly, pressing his forehead to her own with a heavy sigh.

“Why do you still follow me? Knowing what I have done? Knowing what I will do? Why remain at my side when I have caused you nothing but loss and hurt?” Ice filled her chest once more. His voice filled with nothing but anguish as his fingers dug into her sides unconsciously. She smiled tearfully, shifting forward to press closer to him, her hand lifting to press against his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly beneath her fingertips. 

“Is that what you believe? That you have only caused me loss? What of the life you gave me? I would not exist without you. What of all the lessons you have parted me with? All the stories you have told me? What of the purpose you have given me, not only all those years ago, but again when you found me once more? The respect you have earned from me? What of the man who once held me in a drunken stupor and told me he did not need any other than me? Do you honestly believe you have given me nothing by sorrow and hurt? Solas, you have given me so many things, I cannot begin to explain them all to you. Ir abelas, I have no made this clear to you before. I would not _be_ without you. I _will not_ be without you.” She felt her tears begin to fall once more.

“You are worthy of forgiveness, Solas. You are a man who has made mistakes. But you are more than your mistakes. You are worthy of praise. You are worthy of love.” _From me._ The words did not follow as they did in her mind. She would not force her unwanted emotions upon him. Not when he was already vulnerable to her. There were so few times he was vulnerable to any one in all these eras. She would not take advantage of him. She was not Mythal. Her thoughts once again ceased as she felt warm hands caress her jaw, pulling her back to reality when she had not realised her eyes closed. His own once again open, blazing with heat she had thought smothered.

“I have never lied to you, Aravae.” She felt her eyebrows press together in confusion. Her muddled emotions and tears only caused her to think slower as she tried to understand what he meant. She knew he did not lie? Why would he about such a thing as destroying the world? Then it hit her. The memory of him, much younger than they were now. His canines flashed with easy grins; his blue gaze hazy with the swill of intoxication. Auburn locks were tossed messily after hours of dancing with others, although she doubted hers had looked any better. He had pulled her into a pile of dark furs and decadent textured pillows. Their drunken laughter mingling as they both relented that neither were sober enough to find their own rooms that night. She had teased him about how his ears would tinge pink every time a specific lady had danced with him that night. He had rebutted her adamantly, but his flush cheeks could not be ignored. The alcohol having made it harder for him to control his reactions. She had laughed at him and told him the woman was pretty, but he had stopped. He had stared down at her as she laid with her head in his lap, an easy grin reappearing on his lips as he pressed her unruly hair behind her gold-clad ear. _I do not need any other when I have you, ma’enlea._ The memory brought the same heat to her cheeks as it had back then.

“You say I am worthy of forgiveness, of praise, of love. I have only ever wished for yours, ma’enlea.” His gaze would not leave her own. His fingers curled into her hips as if fearing if he let her go, she would suddenly disappear. She looked back up at him, her foggy mind trying to accept what he had confessed to her.

“You have always had them, ma’lath.” As the words trembled from her lips, his own pressed to her immediately. Her mouth seemed to freeze against him. She had kissed him many times before. For many various reasons. But as one arm curled around her waist and a hand lifted to cup her cheek, tilting her head to his, she decided she liked this one the most. Her lips finally began to respond as she felt herself press against his more rigid form, arms curling around his shoulders as she reciprocated his kiss with passion. Heat flooded her cheeks as she felt his tongue trace adamantly along her lower lip. Still, she happily obliged as she curled herself further into his dominating heat. She did not know how long they remained attached to one another. Their tongues fighting for dominance, they both knew he would win. But as they eventually had to pull away to breath, she once again didn’t know when her legs had wrapped around his waist or when his hand had fallen from her waist to her backside, almost entirely lifting her from the desk in general. She could feel the heat of her blush travel up to the tips of her ears as she panted slightly before him. Her eyes hazy as she looked back at him hesitantly. Unsure what she would find. But the sight of his own cheeks ever so slightly tinted, his gaze holding heat she wanted so desperately to consume her, she decided she would do it as much as possible.

“You do not know how many centuries I have dreamt of doing this.” Her cheeks flooded with heat once more at the sound of his breathless voice, so low it almost sounded like a growl to her ears. She shuddered in his hold, which only caused him to gaze down at her smugly. She couldn’t fight the smile that crept to her lips, her eyelids lowering gently as she leaned forward once more, hovering her lips over his.

“Then do it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it. I want fluff. I want love. And these two dorks deserve it. 
> 
> Longer chapters to come, I promise. 
> 
> Translations:  
> ma'lath = my love


	21. A Helpful Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lingering anxieties plague Aravae, but luckily, compassion knows what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy. Remember, I love all your comments and kudos.

It had taken them quite some time to part from one another after their confessions. No matter how minimal they were. Merely admittance to one another that their feelings had run far more profound than either had wished to dwell on for far longer than either could really remember. It was… a step. One that made her feel giddy in ways she had not experienced in some time. Her cheeks flushed pink, the heat all too noticeable to the man who walked alongside her. His face was neutral once again as they joined the rest of the Inquisition in the main hall, but she could feel his aura wrap around her unconsciously. It dripped with smugness that covered the energetic joy just beneath. She tried to hide her smile but found she could not. At least not entirely. Instead of a beaming grin, she felt, it merely tweaked the corner of her lip. It only tugged more as she felt his hand brush against her own as they walked as if wishing to hold it despite the people around them. She bit her lip gently and decided to be daring for once. Her hand caught his own as it brushed passed hers, entwining their fingers as she made it a point to not look at him. Why could they not show their friendship? She snorted to herself slightly. Yes. Those, _many_ , kisses had displayed such friendship. The voice in her head sounded far too much like Felassan, she decided. And far too sarcastic. She did not really know what this small change had meant… maybe nothing. Maybe they would continue as they had before, finding solace in one another and sharing their memories. Perhaps it told much more than that… She was not afraid to admit to herself that she wanted it to be more than that. Although as she felt him squeeze her hand instead of pulling away, she decided to believe it had meant more.

The two walked through the busy hall; many had gathered for the food that lined the tables. Far more time had passed than she had thought. It was now supper. She felt his hand slip away from hers. She decided to ignore the sorrow that accompanied the coldness that replaced his warmth. Her eyes scanned for a moment, wondering what he was doing, but instead, she caught the honey-toned gaze of Varric, who wore a knowing smirk already. She coughed and looked pointedly away, pretending she had not noticed him. She hardly needed him spreading rumours about them when they had just… reconciled. The sensation of his tongue running over her lips sent heat to her cheeks once more. Very enthusiastic reconciliation. She huffed gently, wishing her cheeks to stop burning so noticeably. She probably looked ridiculous. During her inner turmoil, she had not noticed Solas return with two plates of food. She smiled gently and saw the small amount of meat and many vegetables that littered the plate. Primarily consisting of carrots. Her favourite. She was slightly surprised to realise he had noticed and remembered for so long. It brought warmth to her heart once again. She had not realised just how much he had paid attention to her. Or really, considered it. She thanked him, and when to take her plate from him, but he shook his head and held it above her head. She frowned and crossed her arms at him, annoyed by his much higher reach. He merely offered her a slight grin; his eyes twinkled in humour before he continued to swerve around the noisy crowds to the door of his rotunda. It honestly was his, in every meaning of the word. Others just did not know. She followed him closely, using his natural ability to part a crowd to allow herself through as well. Eventually, they entered his domain, which she had not spent much time admiring previously. Too afraid of finding him in there while they were dancing around one another. Her eyes quickly fell on the gentle sketches on the walls. They were very light, possibly not even noticeable to many who passed through quickly.

“You are painting again.” She smiled gently and walked to the plastered walls, her fingers delicately tracing the thin lines of his designs. He had once spent decades working on pieces, many of these temples and shrines littered with paintings that told stories of their history. Of his true past. It felt nice to know he intended to continue it for the Herald. She should be honoured. He believed her actions worthy of recounting in such a way. Painted by the hands of an ancient god who had mastered the art long ago. Secretly, she wished to watch him. He was always so focused, his hands covered in coloured dye, sometimes reaching all the way to his elbows. She refused to admit the fact that he often painted shirtless was also a factor in the decision. She scolded herself. Since when had her mind started betraying her so much? _Since she’d discovered it had not been only her who thought this way._ She hummed to herself in thought but jumped as she felt an arm wrap around her midsection. She leaned back into him without thought and smiled gently.

“Come. Eat. You can admire them once they are complete.” His voice was gentle, although a hint of pride remained. He was always proud of his work. As he should have been. She nodded and turned to grab her plate to sit on the only other available seating. A small dual seat that rested against the wall of the stairs. She curled her legs under her, resting the warm dish against her lap. She was surprised when she felt the seat dip beside her. She had thought he would use his desk; it would be much easier. But as his thigh brushed against her own, she couldn’t help the smile that secretly curled on her lips. Wondering if it was not only her who wished to remain closer after so long apart. Not that it had been long… not really in the scheme of things. A few months was nothing to them. Yet, it had felt so much longer. She took a bite of her food, feeling her nose wrinkle at the taste. It was… fine. There were many things from her time she missed. She heard a quiet chuckle beside her, causing her to turn her head.

“It… leaves much to be desired, doesn’t it?” She giggled gently at his slight frown down at the food. She nodded in agreement. She paused, looking around them despite knowing no other was near them. Her voice remained low, however.

“I miss vel’masta.” She sighed dreamily, imagining the bite-sized cake. It would be lathered in a sugary coating, but there would be a flash of flavours, all different depending on the type when you bit into it. The tingle of magic would remain on your tongue afterwards for a moment. They had been her favourite. She heard him chuckle once again.

“I believe they have made something similar; frilly Orlesian cakes they sell at the markets. Minus the magic, of course.” She raised an eyebrow at that, surprised they had made such a thing and surprised he had known about it. Although she should not be. He had a sweet tooth that rivalled her own. Many times, they had travelled together, only to try new bakeries treats. In doing so, many had learnt of his preference, and offerings quickly came in the forms of tiny pastries and sweets. She grinned at the thought.

“I am not surprised you would know that, ma’fen.” She laughed slightly at his huff; the rolling of his eyes could not deter the smile that filled his lips.

“Do not act as though I am the only one who seeks such things in this world, ma’enlea. You were always stealing them.” She snorted slightly and tilted her head.

“You didn’t need them all. What would we do with a wolf slowed by sugar?” Her grin was wide as she teased him, his glare doing nothing to detain her laughter. However, it was short-lived as he leaned closer to her, his plate hovering away from him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. She felt her own plate raise from her lap as he did, her arms instinctively wrapping around his shoulders as she almost resided in his lap once again.

“I had many ways to keep that from happening, ma’enlea. Perhaps you would like to learn them?” His words were low, husky as their faces hovered close to one another. The recurring heat once again bloomed on her pale cheeks. She almost hissed at his teasing if it was not for the less than savoury images that flashed through her mind. Instead, she heard a small whine escape her thought which only caused the heat to bloom in his eyes and a feral smirk she had not seen in centuries to reside on his lips. Oh, how much he resembled his young self at that moment. Before she could make a response, she heard a loud clap come from the doorway. They jumped from each other’s side, now sitting close rather than on top of one another. She looked up to see Dorian’s perfectly manicured face, grinning widely.

“Oh, how lovely it is to see our two love birds back at each other’s side. Although, please remember this is a public space, no need for two promiscuous elves to taint everyone’s ears. Although can’t say I’d personally complain.” She almost choked on her own saliva. Her ears burned in embarrassment, and although her mouth moved, no sound would escape her until she simply decided to close it to save some kind of dignity. If she had any left.

“We are hardly children, unable to control ourselves, Dorian.” She almost wanted to laugh at the offended tone, but her embarrassment kept her from doing so.

“Initially, I would have agreed if I had not just witnessed you two trying to climb inside one another.” She turned to the Tevinter mage and glared. Mostly because she could not honestly rebut the comment…

“I was honest when I said it is good to see you both on _speaking_ terms. If Solas’ mood turned any sourer, I was beginning to believe it would start curling the pages in my books. Blasphemy. I’d have to reprimand him myself.” The mage pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, leaning back as if faint. The elf beside her murmured beneath his breath.

“You could have tried.” She giggled gently at the imaged. Dorian trying to yell down at Solas from the confines of his chosen nook while the apostate merely watched with an unimpressed face. Most situations were far more amusing when the others had no idea _who_ they were actually yelling at. She suspected Solas also found amusement in it all if he was not annoyed by their antics.

“We will keep your maidenhood in mind for future reference, Ser Pavus.” Her comment was more sarcastic than she had meant it to be. The man only laughed.

“Well, it’s nice to know you have a sense of humour, my dear. I was wondering if always remaining around Solas had drained you of it. Do come see me later, however. When Solas finally releases you, despite how hard it may be for him. I wish to speak about the Herald’s net actions at Halamshiral, and you’ve been hiding away for us all for far too long.” Despite the conversation's joking and overall pleasantness, she was still nervous about speaking with the man, particularly alone. She knew she should not judge him on where he had come from. He had made it relatively clear he did not believe in following the ancient Magister or the Venatori. But she could not go without some of the grudges that being Tevinter held. The many eyes of dirt covered slaves, bloodied from wipes and chains, tears from the abuse they had faced would assault her every time she remembered that horrible place. She nodded, however, trying not to show her disdain openly. With that, the mage ascended the stairs and once again left them in private. Although suddenly very aware just how fickle that privacy was. She cleared her though in the silence that followed, neither sure of where to go from there. Their previous actions having been driven by far more emotion than they wished to admit.

“Ir abelas, I had not meant to-“

“Sathan, Tel’abelas. Ar… Ar tel’abelas.” She did not wish to feel like her emotions were wrong. She did not want to hide them either. Although she understood his worry, she would not continue if he saw this as something that would be a hindrance rather than a benefit. She sighed softly and realised that they would have to address what this meant. Preferably somewhere much more private and at a later time. Her giddy emotions soon calmed, replaced by a sudden feeling of hollowness. Wondering if it had been wise to admit her deeper connection. Had he been honest when he told her he wanted her love? She had no doubt. But their positions were difficult and easily compromisable. Perhaps thinking she was ever going to be in league with an Evenuris, to truly stand at his side as an equal was fool-hardy. She was not so significant. Nor so powerful. The Herald would have been a better opinion. Logistically. Perhaps that had been his original intention, to remain close by the Herald side in order to know what was happening. To learn how his plans were affected. And here she had come to ruin it all. Standing between them like a roadblock. The sinking feeling in her chest grew larger. Perhaps she had been too hasty, this world’s impatience wearing off on her after all this time. She realised she needed to think. It was all too much, really. Her own insecurities were not unknown to her. Especially when one stood by the side of a God. It had been the reason she never acknowledged it back in their times. It was not fair to expect him to settle for one as insignificant as her. She felt a hand guide her face to look at his own, a slight frown on his lips which made her stomach drop, wondering if he had been having similar thoughts.

“What troubles you so, ma’enlea? I apologise if my… indulges’ have caused you concern.” He looked at her with worry clearly painted on his face, and she felt her heart flutter against her will. He was not fair. It was not fair to give a man such power over her. Even if she was the one who allowed it.

“I- I wonder if our… recent actions have made things harder for you. I do not wish to be a burden. But I am old Solas, and I am tired of hiding so much of myself. If… If we are to. To _be_ … something…” She tried to force the words out. But her nervousness made it far more difficult than she had anticipated. A lump growing in her throat that seemed to make it impossible to say more no matter how much she tried to swallow it. She was terrified of his answer to her fears. Terrified that she might be right in her assumptions because she wished to be selfish about this. She wanted to remain at his side. Be more than just his loyal friend that always stood by him. It was not a new desire, but it only grew the longer she was with him now.

The longer she stood next to the man who was no longer considered a god, instead, just some forgotten elf that wandered the world on his own. She was selfish because she did not have to fight to be at his side in this world. To remain valid in his eyes. He had found out her feelings about it back in Arlathan, trying to reassure her that he did not see her that way, but it was hard to believe someone like him could _need_ her as she needed him. Not in a world that had worshipped him. But now… her desire had become so difficult to ignore as he had given her all his attention. The voice that assaulted her thoughts now growing more confident the more he remained by her and now after his admittance of wanting the same… She did not know if her desire could be forgotten if they were to continue much more. She was not surprised by the feeling; it was a constant battle for her. She was once purpose. Becoming a living, breathing person outside of the fade had twisted her will. Any spirit that left the fade, as a spirit, human, elf or otherwise, risked being corrupted, and she had spent so very long in this world. The fight against desire had become both more straightforward and more complex. She wondered if he would still be willing to stay by her side, knowing how much she fought her demons of desire.

“He does not mind. Shadows following, seeking, searching. Always near. Ignored. Fear and regret hold, wondering if they have already become them. How? How do they continue with such strength, unaffected by their demons? They do not. The other does not understand. I do not understand why?” Two heads turned suddenly at the most recent voice. The boy. The one that wore rags, warning them of Haven’s oncoming downfall, sat crossed-legged on top of Solas’ desk. His head downcast as he spoke, the shadow of his large-brimmed hat casting a shadow over his face. She stared slightly, bewildered at the boy. He was not a boy. He sounded…

“You are a spirit.” It was Solas who spoke first. Standing in amazement. She soon stood as well when she felt his magic curl around them all. A barrier, knowing all too well who resided above them. Her mind was reeling at the new information. So much had suddenly happened in such a short span of time, she had difficulty keeping up. But the spirit's words did not go unheeded. _He does not mind_. Did he mean Solas? Was it an answer to her own thoughts? And the rest… It had been her thoughts, yet. Not. A spirit…

“Compassion.” The word left her before she could even think it. The boy then looked up at her, his piercing blue eyes gaunt in a way off for a human boy, but… it did not seem so for a spirit. She did not know how she had not noticed it before. He offered her a small, lopsided smile.

“Yes. You are different. You understand me; the others do not. They are afraid. I do not want them to be afraid.” She felt her heartache for the spirit that seemed… trapped somehow. How was this possible. It was not like Solas or her. The body was not designed for it. But it did not feel possessed.

“No. I will not possess anyone. He called for help. I came. I could not help. He gave me his body.” She felt her lip curl in confusion. It was certainly odd. She had never witnessed anything like this before. Not even in their time.

“Fascinating.” She turned to Solas, who stared at the spirit; his eyebrows furrowed in thought, but his eyes sparkled with a million unanswered questions. She smiled gently. His fascination with the fade had not lessened at all, it seemed. She was… glad.

“Fear, hurt, sorrow. It called out. Blocked. Could not help. Until now. Fear and sorrow remain, yet now hope calls. Allows me through. You are scared. I do not understand why.” His words, once again returning to why he had appeared. She hummed gently in consideration. Compassion. It was appropriate, she supposed. That such a spirit would find its way to a place such as this. She felt her cheeks flush at the knowledge her thoughts were now apparent to the man beside her. Solas did not look at her, however. She cleared her voice gently and made to speak, requesting that the spirit does not say anymore or her face would surely never recover, but it was her companion who spoke first.

“Please, compassion. It is not something I wish to speak of.” Her eyes suddenly furrowed, and her head whipped to face him. Confusion causing through her. His thoughts? Had he…? The spirit then tilted its head, eyes innocent in only a way a spirit could be as he turned to her. She half knew what he was about to say before he said it.

“Why do you not say it? He thinks the same. Yet you hurt and try to hide. Scared of being alone. Scared of being without him. Desire presses but so does pride. Each holding back in fear.” She furrowed her eyes once more. Pride? She turned to Solas once more, realising for the first time since the spirit had arrived, he now looked at her. He spoke once more, yet his eyes never left her.

“Who were you helping, Compassion?” His question referring to the spirit’s initial entrance. Said boy tilted his head once more and looked confused between the two elves.

“Both of you. You think the same. Yet you remain sad. I do not understand.” She felt the knot in her throat suddenly disperse. It… answered more than it realised. She felt her lips curl slightly in a smile, though her head dipped, trying to hide it. It was always odd when spirits revealed things to others, yet it always seemed to be the right thing. Once again, she realised just how much she had missed her spirit companions through the years. Being able to converse on the same plane of existence. She decided to try and speak once more, now she understood both of their thoughts.

“I wonder if our recent actions have made this difficult for you. I do not wish to be a burden on you, Solas. But I… find myself wanting far more than to just remain as a friend at your side. You have given me… what we have done today… if we continue… I am old. And the older I get, the more I fight against my desire. I fear if we continue, I will not be able to fight that desire much more.” She stumbled over many of her words, her heartbeat quickening the longer she spoke and the more she revealed. Nervous did not begin to explain how she felt at the moment. Like small lightning bolts were prickling along her skin and striking inside her stomach. She finally found the strength to look up at him, only to find him seemingly frozen, staring at her with his far too beautiful blue-grey eyes. Dread began to pool inside of her as the time started to stretch with no response.

“Fear trickling. Not good enough. Hope to remain friends, yet understands distance.” A side glance at the spirit revealed him to be picking at the string on his boots, not particularly paying attention to the two despite how readily he admitted her fears to the other. She felt more dread wash over her, silently wishing the spirit to remain silent despite him merely wanting to help. It was not helping. She would take her rejection with grace. She began to speak but was cut off immediately. The spirits words seeming to bring Solas back from his frozen trance.

“No. Aravae. Please. That is not- As in, I do not wish to- No. I do not, not wish to-“ The elf quickly stopped talking, clearing his through loudly before straightening his posture. His shoulder squaring back slightly as he looked down at her.

“I have spent millennia’s dreaming of you by my side. I would have given up everything if it meant you would desire me so. Yet, I find you have done it regardless of my poor actions. Please. Nothing would give me greater pride than for you to desire me, as I have already desired you for an eternity.” He’d stepped closer, his voice low as he reached forward, the back of his fingers caressing her face as he whispered the last words. She stared up at him for a moment, her lips agape in surprise. She did not know what to say. To learn of his feelings after almost convincing herself she was not worthy to even dream of such a thing… she decided she may never find the words. Instead, she closed the distance by curling her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to her height so she could press her lips to his own once more. This time it was her own tongue that sort entrance as she felt his arms wrap around her, seemingly more than happy to oblige her. At the same time, his hands dipped lower, causing her cheeks to flush at his confidence. She moaned softly into his mouth as she felt his hand squeeze her backside deviously, thankful they were surrounded by a barrier before she finally pulled away from him. Breathing heavily once more. She decided she’d happily stop breathing if it meant she could do that forever. But as he began to lean in once again, a voice once again spoke up with childish innocence.

“I helped?” The two turned, still wrapped in once another, to see the spirit smiling at them unperturbed by their actions. Most likely, unknowing of what their actions meant. She couldn’t help the giggle that broke through her, her head falling into Solas’ collar as she felt him chuckle as well.

“Yes. Ma serannas, ma’falon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Solas is uber smooth with all his lines, but I want to believe that finding out someone you have been pining over for most of your immortal life feels the same would result in him short-circuiting, at least for a moment. 
> 
> Also, sorry for the wait! It was so difficult to write this chapter for some reason but then suddenly today it just seemed like a damn broke and I finally realised how to articulate it properly and how to transition all this to the next stage. Yay! 
> 
> Translation:  
> Vel’masta = Purely invented word. Type of cupcake.


	22. Dancing Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Inquisitor needs help.

As much as she wished to continue speaking with the strange spirit that resided in a human’s body without possessing it, she still needed to speak with Dorian. Despite how much she preferred one activity over the other, she would not shun her duties. She was with the Inquisition for a reason, even if the Herald had kept her at arm’s length for the majority of it. A sudden thought hit her. The Herald. Ellana. She… would not be pleased to hear of these recent… events. A groan almost left the elf. How was it this world was so lacking and yet so much more complicated than theirs was? She had excused herself from Solas and Cole’s conversation. That had been what the spirit wished to be referred to as. It was odd, but she could understand. As he had said, the others do not quite understand him or trust him. It would have to be appropriately discussed, most likely by Solas. He would be the best at explaining it to everyone. Hopefully resulting in the least agitation at the idea of a spirit remaining with them. If he could. She honestly hoped he would. He had already helped them. A warmth enveloped her. Far more than he could have realised. Another thought hit her as she ascended the stairs. Happiness would be pleased as well. Perhaps she would try to visit them tonight. They had been trying their hardest to help her with everything going on, knowing how the events in the waking made her sad. She had been appreciative, but nothing had seemed to make the sorrow of seemingly losing a close friend disappear. Instead, they would sit by her side, keeping her company as she drifted through the memories of Skyhold, meeting curious wisps and spirits that remained after centuries. She wondered if Solas had done the same. She was sure he had. Perhaps she could discuss it with him.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to worry he would not let you go. Especially with that barrier and all. At least you held some consideration for the rest of us.” She felt her lip quirk slightly at the man’s comment.

“Yes, well. We wouldn’t want to give you anything more to gossip about, Ser Pavus.” The man huffed but remained in his cushioned seat. Gesturing for her to accompany him in the other that had appeared to be dragged in. She hesitated for a moment before she nodded gently and took a seat, her eyes scanning all the books that surrounded them instead of looking at the man who had invited her here.

“If you would, Aravae, please. I would prefer to be called Dorian. I… apologise for the way we have begun this acquaintance. I had not realised my comment would cause such offence. I must confess I do not have much experience speaking with elves who are not… well. With that being said, I do not believe I can properly change how you must perceive me, but I would like us to reach a common ground. For the good of this cause, if nothing else.” For all his extravagant behaviours and manner of speaking, the man who sat before her seemed remarkably reserved. His posture was still proud and yet… so different from his countrymen. She felt guilt prick at her insides. Closing her eyes, she breathed out slowly.

“It is I who must apologise, Dorian. I have been unfair in my judgements. Please, understand I have seen the darker sides of your country, and I have seen how my people fair. It is difficult to be faced with such a thing without contempt. You do not deserve it, however. You have shown no manner of hostility to my people or the servants. I will take your actions as a judgement rather than your lineage. Forgive me.” She watched as his face contorted slightly at her confession of his nation. It obviously hurt him to hear such a thing. They were not friends. It was difficult to believe they ever would be. Nonetheless, she appreciated his candice in trying to remain civil with one another, and she would reciprocate it. 

“I suppose that is all I can ask for. Thank you, my dear. Now. Enough of that; I hate sounding so serious. Stress makes wrinkles appear faster, and this face is far too spectacular for such a thing.” She couldn’t help the smile that broke her lips; a slight shake of her head was her only response. But it seemed to be enough for him. His smile would again bloom on his face.

“Now, a little bird has told me, you and the Inquisitor have not quite gotten along so far.” She huffed slightly and gave him a look.

“I assume this little bird has considerable chest hair.” The response earned her a delighted laugh.

“Why yes, it’s quite remarkable in fact. Although, not my point. I presume it would have something to do with our resident hobo apostate.” She scrunched up her nose at the comment. She wondered if Solas could hear them. Most likely.

“Hobo apostate?” The words felt odd to say, especially about someone who once wore silk and gold. Although, she had also teased him about his manner of dress when she had first seen him.

“Why yes, how he’s managed to get two lovely elves to fall over for him is beyond me. He must have some elven charm because it is certainly not those clothes.” The man made a face that only caused Aravae to laugh gently in disbelief. She did not know how the man would react if he learns he said those words about a god, but it only brought her amusement. Her wolf had undoubtedly taken on the form of a sheep. She supposed this was why. It made people unassuming.

“Did you merely invite me here to gossip, Dorian?” He made a face at her.

“I prefer calling it, learning the Inner Circle dynamics. They’re quite complicated so far. Although everyone had agreed that the three of you have been the most complicated.” She sighed gently, suddenly exhausted with the conversation. It was always the same, no matter what era it was. Gossip always prevailed. And once more, it was gossip about if she was sleeping with the dread wolf. She frowned.

“I have nothing against the Inquisitor. She seemed to want to help solve our problems and now has the means to do so. I will do all I can to help her. It is why I am here.” She decided to give him what he was seeking. Her opinion on their leader. She did not have anything against the young elf. She was temperamental and quite hostile to her, but she was also young. Far younger than Aravae. She could not hold the elves feelings for Solas’ against her. It was a fight she was always going to lose. She just did not realise why. Although it would soon be more of an issue once she heard the latest gossip. The man before her, seemed to be considering the same thing.

“I purely diplomatic outlook. I should not have been surprised. Although, I must say I am surprised you would peruse him, knowing of her feelings.” It was Aravae’s turn to look confused and frown.

“Why would her feelings change my own?” She did not understand, and it caused him to smiled knowingly.

“It would not. But few would readily oppose the Herald of Andraste and newly appointed Inquisitor that sealed the sky and plans to save everyone from their demise.” She narrowed her eyes slightly.

“She may be those things, but it does not grant her control over anyone’s choices. Solas’ included.” Her tone was much sharper than she had intended. But it was a preconception she detested. It was the same mindset that created tyrants and want-to-be gods. Her reaction only seemed to make Dorian smile wider, a glitter of something unknown in his eyes.

“My, Sera was right. You are rather proud of your ideals.” She made a face then.

“I am not-“

“Ah. Ah. Ah. I did not mean it in offence. Merely that you hold yourself to a standard and uphold it. Regardless if those above, you might oppose it. It is… refreshing. Despite that, Sera might believe the contrary.” He waved his hands dismissively as she began to protest. She closed her mouth, realising she would not be able to argue with the point. She had learnt over the years her attitude was sometimes seen as uptight or condescending to some. Particularly to Dalish elves. She wanted to snort at the idea. Her knowledge did not make her arrogant, she was merely factual, and they refused to believe it.

“Now, despite how it may appear, I did not ask you here to gossip about your little love triangle.” Heat blossomed over her cheeks, while a frown quickly formed. He made it all seem so childish. Albeit it was.

“It has not been announced yet, but the Inquisition will be attended a treaty event in Halamshiral. The future the Inquisitor and I have witnessed would see the dear Empress dead and chaos in her wake. Naturally, we would like to avoid that sort of thing. Alas, this means our group of misfits must attend. Hopefully, you can see the complications with such a thing. Our dear Inquisitor is having issues grasping the etiquette required, and I fear most of us will be the same. Naturally, I believe it would be best to gauge how much work everyone will need before attending such an important event. Eyes will be on all of us, not just the Inquisitor.” She felt slightly offended by his accusation without him having stated it. He was assuming she had no experience in the area. She huffed. Their extravagant events would last much longer and require far more grace than anything these children called social gatherings today. But she bit her tongue. Perhaps it would be best she played the confused, awkward elf with no knowledge of such a thing. How would she explain her immense expertise on such etiquettes on the game otherwise? She wondered briefly how Solas would play this off. He would not lower himself to that of a fool. His pride would not allow him. She quickly came to her conclusion. The Fade. He would use their limited knowledge against them. She decided it would be easy to do the same. Although Dorian was a mage as well…

“Despite what you may believe, Dorian. I have always held an interest in court intrigue. The Fade has many such displays over the centuries. Much of it does not change, only the looks.” Her words seemed to cause him to backpedal for a moment. It took her a moment to realise why. _Fenedhis._ She had let her pride speak before thinking. A light suddenly shone in his eyes as he gasped in delight.

“You-“

“Are a mage. Yes. Please, speak quietly.” He seemed to understand her as she looked around cautiously. She knew she did not need to. It was not a crime to have magic here. There were no templars who would harm her for displaying such, but years of hiding and pretending could not be ignored so easily.

“Right. Does the Inquisitor…” She nodded at his question, to which he seemed to relax once more.

“I suppose that would explain why Solas’ is so enamoured. I will assume by your wanderings of the Fade you are also a Somniari.” He was much more intelligent than she had first given him credit for. His personality screamed abrasive and arrogant, but he picked up on many many would ignore, especially when it came to magic conversation. She supposed it was his main domain.

“Will I assume he is also familiar with such knowledge then? Although I am surprised. How could one appreciate the finer details of the game wear such drapes?” He sounded offended, and she shook her head. It seemed the man took personal offence every time he had seen Solas’ outfit and required an outlet for it. Apparently, her. But she nodded, to which he sighed slightly.

“Well. I’ll admit having two others familiar with such things will be handy. Perhaps Solas will have more luck trying to teach Ellana how to dance properly…” It was a novice thought, she knew, but she had not expected him to turn to her almost immediately.

“That is, if you do not oppose such a thing.” She tilted her head gently before realising what he was referring to. Would she be jealous? She huffed in humour, offering him a light smile.

“I believe it was you who said I am proud. I hardly believe a mere dance could deter our friendship.” The word had left her mouth before she could change it. It was not really just friendship now, was it? But a lifetime of saying such would not be ignored. Her acquaintance laughed.

“Yes. Your _friendship_. I’m sure you would like to keep that under wraps for as long as possible but do be warned, I doubt Varric holds the same reservation. And once Sera founds out, she won’t hesitate to complain to anyone that will listen her two least favourite people are making out in the halls.” She made a face once again. He made them seem so undignified. They were not… _although._ She sighed and nodded.

“Thank you. I will assume you require mine and Solas’ help then?” The man smiled and nodded.

“Tomorrow, preferably. In the Inquisitor's quarters, just after breakfast. Josephine has started quite a strict schedule. I fear the woman will lose all of her hair by the time the event even comes.” She was not surprised to find the woman stressed at such a thing. It did seem to be her domain. And trying to ready a group full of fighters for an elegant event was no simple task.

“Then we shall do what we can to help.”

\---

\---

She had not realised how much she would grow to regret those words. To say the Inquisitor was not accustomed to anything to do regarding balls was… an understatement. To say the very least. Despite all her grace on the battlefield, it seemed to diminish the moment she was forced to do so with another person. She tried to hide the small grin that threatened her lips as she watched Dorian's eye twitch once again when Ellana stood on his foot once more, which only caused her to jump away from him, further destroying the small momentum they had built. She should not be laughing. It was not fair on the poor girl. Yet, it reminded her far too much of trying to teach children to dance for the first time. Even their youngest elves had more grace, however.

The room was quite large, allowing many to stand and watch the poor woman. Josephine, Vivienne, Dorian, Cullen and surprisingly Blackwall were already in the room when she and Solas had arrived. She assumed the two other men had been asked to try and help, which had apparently failed just as terribly as the others were no more graceful than the Herald herself. She had seen Vivienne’s sceptical look as they entered, and Dorian explained his previous actions and thoughts. That they would be able to help both the Herald and the two warriors.

“Solas, my good man, perhaps you would indulge us with your expertise. If only to prove Vivienne, you are capable… and give my feet a rest.” Dorian had mumbled the last part under his breath, but it had not been low enough to deter the glare thrown at him from the blonde elf.

“This is ridiculous; I do not understand why I have to learn this. I will only be attending to make sure no one kills the woman.” Aravae was not surprised at the woman’s hostility. They had barely begun, and her temper was already flaring.

“Unfortunately, such posturing is necessary for the eyes of those you wish to impress, Inquisitor. It is far more than merely saving the Empress.” It was Solas’ soothing voice that spoke as he walked toward the woman, swapping with the Tevinter man. Josephine nodded in agreement.

“Yes, your worship. This is far more than mere fighting. We must show Thedas we are not just an organisation of brutes demanding power. We must appear approachable, diplomatic and also strong. These steps are necessary.” The leader only huffed angrily as she turned to Solas, which seemed to make her lose some of her temper. Instead, she appeared far more demure with him than she had previously with Dorian. It almost made her frown, but she stopped herself. She had told Dorian this wouldn’t bother her. She would stick with that idea.

“Perhaps it would be less embarrassing if Cullen were to practice with you. Aravae had experience in such dance as well.” Dorian grinned, trying to improve the mood.

“I am not embarrassed! This is just stupid!” The blonde woman flushed red, growling at the man, which only cause the rest to try and hide their laughter.

“Yes, of course. If nothing, just appreciate I managed to get Solas to hold you.” Dorian's voice was teasing, but it almost made Aravae’s eye twitch. She knew he was doing it on purpose. She had asked him to keep Solas and her a secret. This was his way of doing it and enjoying himself. She refused to look at the two elves in question. Instead, she turned to the blonde Commander, who seemed just as awkward as Ellana was. He held no weapons or armour, dressed in only breaches and cotton tunic. He looked far more approachable this way.

“Is this really necessary?” He seemed nervous. It was almost cute. His hand scratching the back of his neck as he glanced at her, only to look away immediately. She chuckled lightly and stepped forward.

“I promise I will try to go easy on you, Commander.” She could not help the teasing tone; he looked much different at this moment. Less like a man who could strike her down. Even if he still could. Cullen’s face seemed to redden drastically at her words, which only confused her. Had she said something indecent?

“You will need to. I can’t believe a man so used to routines can’t pick up a simple waltz.” It was Josephine’s voice that cut through the air. Far snarkier than Aravae had heard her before. It was friendly, however. It seemed to make the Commander sigh and give in, walking beside the other two elves who were waiting for them. Aravae quickly joined them, lifting her hand to gently rest on his far taller shoulder. His own hand seemed to hesitate as it hovered over her back, the other gently gripping her outstretched hand. He stood a least a foot from her, which had the hold all the more awkward. She tried to hold her laughter as his cheeks turned pink. It was odd to see him so flustered. He seemed confident in his armour. Perhaps it was his defence for more things than just swords. She stepped forward, leaving only inches between them. He seemed to freeze.

“I apologise, Commander, but dancing is hardly a non-contact event.” She tried to joke with him to help relieve some of the anxious air between them. To which he only awkwardly laughed and nodded his agreement.

“Forgive me; this is not something I have had to learn.” She nodded and decided that perhaps talking would allow him to relax enough to follow her steps. She quickly realised she would be leading this dance. 

“Do they not teach templars to dance? I thought being apart of the chantry would require education on such a thing.” She took a step back, her hands gently pressing against his shoulder to follow her, which he did. If only after a moment. He cleared his throat and continued to pursue her slow steps.

“Ah, not entirely. We are more of a military then part of the diplomacy of the chantry. More time is spent learning the chant of light or training regimes.” She nodded her understanding, beginning to pick up the pace slightly as he followed her steps, luckily without stepping on her too often.

“Are all templars required to learn all weapons, or are there weapon classes?” The more detailed the questions, she realised, the more he thought of that rather than their steps. Instead, he followed her lead much more naturally. Slowly beginning to remember the simple eight steps, they continued to practice. It was not perfect, but he soon began to lead her. Her own steps changing to match his instead of the other way around. His hand on her back had slide to her hip in a much more relaxed manner.

\---

\---

When Aravae had mentioned their morning plans to him, he had been sceptical. Especially as it had been by the Tevinters request. He was surprised Aravae had agreed to speak with the man; she seemed to hold more than a slight grudge against the nation. He understood the reason, even if there appeared to be more to it then simply the detest of slavery as he felt. He had also been surprised to find she had agreed to help the Herald. It was no real secret that the two women were not entirely on speaking terms. He did not blame either of them. Although he had tried to speak with Ellana about respecting the other, which fell on deaf ears, it would seem. He held quiet disdain for the actions, but he could not say anything more. It was crucial he remains by the Herald side in order to know the actions of the Inquisition. It did not mean he did not miss spending so much time with his friend, however. Or, rather, his love. Grey eyes flickered to the body currently standing too close to the latter.

The recent events had been… unexpected. If he was honest with himself, he had expected her to tell him she would be leaving with Felassan when she had found him hiding away in his old study. Their actions had not gone unnoticed by him while he guided the Herald to Skyhold. Still so very close to one another even after so many centuries apart. He supposed he was not surprised; they had been the same, before… before she had learnt of his true intentions for this world. He knew she would not agree. Her hatred for the Evenuris rivalled Felassans. However, his plans were necessary; however, it did not lessen the hurt of knowing his actions would cost him something even more precious than their ancient lands. He had readied himself to walk this path alone when he awoke. Prepared himself to face the death by his fellow Evenuris once he released them on Mythal wishes. He had not been ready to find her. Alive of all things. After so many aeons spend silently mourning the loss of her. He had never forgiven himself for being too late. Then suddenly she was there, standing before him with a smile, ready to help as she had always done. It had thrown his entire world. It had changed so many things. His attention had been stolen for a time, wanting nothing more than to revel in her presence, to confirm that she was really alive and with him.

Then Redcliffe had happened. Ellana had told him of what transpired as she sobbed into his chest and clung to him as if a child. It had reminded him of his failures. Reminded him why he had prepared to walk a path of death. Why he did not deserve to dwell in her light no matter how much he wished to. He knew she would never agree with his plans. But he had promised to tell her, and he had. She deserved as much. He had expected her to never return to his side, so he had left. Ran like a coward to someone who did need him at this moment. He had been terrified when she finally confronted him. Each passing day she ignored him; he felt dread swell tighter in his chest, trying to ready himself for her final goodbye. But she had surprised him. In a way, only she ever really could. She had forgiven him; she had accepted him. She had torn down every feeble resolve he had built in those frail days. She still had not accepted his plans. But she had accepted him. Accepted that it had not been his plans. She had been right. As she always was. Pride had swelled in him, realising just how much she knew him. Better then, he had known himself since he had awoken. She still hung to that better image of him. She always believed in that better idea of him. She had made him want to believe in it as well. It was conflicting. He had a promise to keep. Yet he wanted nothing more than to steal her away in those moments and run. Run to somewhere those promises would not mean anything. But he could not. Yet, she still stayed. Had still offered herself entirely to him, terrified of his rejection when she never had a reason to be. It was bewildering to him how someone so forgiving, intelligent, determined and beautiful could still look at him with such wonder and love. He did not deserve it. But, oh, how his pride soared at the thought of it. He desired her so for so long, and he could not force himself to withhold his own emotions any longer. Not when she kissed him so readily. Not when she wrapped herself around him in ways he had only dreamt of for so long.

It was these thoughts that continued to plague him as he guided the Inquisitor around the floor slowly. She had forgone all control to him when he had placed his hand on her back and held her hand. It made guiding her far easier than when Dorian had. She had refused to relinquish control to any other. He had noticed when observing her dance previously. Despite not knowing the steps to the dance, she would demand to be followed regardless rather than follow her partner. He had determined that she would most likely give up that control to him for… obvious reasons. He wanted to sigh as his eyes once again turned to the two who had relaxed with one another, now twirling effortlessly. The Commander's hand had dropped to her hip, laughing slightly at something she had said as they twirled once more. He frowned, annoyance suddenly clutching at his chest. What were they speaking of? They had almost been at each other’s throats continuously since they met, and suddenly, they were joking with one another and dancing practically effortlessly. He felt Ellana suddenly stand on his foot, and he coughed slightly, trying to play off the pain slightly. His attention turned back to her. She grinned sheepishly; her cheeks flushed pink as she looked up at him. He wanted to sigh, feeling slightly bad that all he could imagine was Aravae in his arms instead. Despite her currently being held by another. He clenched his jaw.


	23. Soft Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and Aravae have a moment alone.

“Well. This isn’t fair. A weeks’ worth of lessons that amounted to nothing but my sore feet and being thrown across the room, on more than one occasion, mind you, while one lesson with some elves and they’re able to at least hold a count. This is stark favouritism if I’ve ever seen it.” Dorian seemed to whine from the corner of the room, flourishing his hands at them while speaking with Josephine and Vivienne, who also seemed surprised at the events. It was Josephine who seemed the most delighted by the prospect, however.

“Well, at least someone could. I was beginning to consider body doubles for the Inquisitor…” Vivienne only scoffed and crossed her arms.

“Don’t hold your hopes too high, my dear; we still have table etiquette and the general game mechanics to discuss with everyone. I believe Sera will be thrilled.” The other woman frowned, and the sudden delight deflated just as quickly.

“We should hold a meeting to inform everyone. We only have a week before we must start travelling to Val Royeaux. It also means we only have a week to sort outfits also. Oh dear, Inquisitor, I must implore you to decide which dress you will be wearing. We cannot have you go in just anything. The court will be horrified. We’d lose all hope of recognition if you walked in wearing armour to a dinner party.” The woman seemed flustered, and the elf who stood too close to Solas’ chest groaned loudly. Blue eyes rolled in annoyance as she turned to Josephine, hands on her hips.

“I’m not wearing those ridiculous gowns. There’s so much fabric I’d never be able to fight in them. One fireball and I’d go up in flames along with my opponents.” Aravae couldn’t help but agree with the young woman. Those dresses always did seem so impractical. Although she assumed many did not wear them with the intention of starting fights. Only goading them. She and Cullen had stopped their slow dance, he was not perfect, but it was far better than he had started. At the very least, he could lead someone and keep the steps without stepping on her any longer. It was an improvement.

“You cannot wear a military uniform to the court, Inquisitor; that is preposterous.” It was the well-dressed enchanter that seemed so offended by the prospect.

“Why not? The men are. Why are we forced to be different?” The elf grimaced in distaste. Aravae watched with slight interest. It seems this was another issue they seemed to be at a standstill with. Clothes. Who would have thought?

“Because we are women, my dear. Not only that, but you are the Inquisitor of all of _Thedas._ Despite what you think, you _must_ make a good impression. Elf or not.” The words seemed to leave the women without a thought. But even as the Herald hissed in anger, the other did not back down from her comment.

“I understand these things make you uncomfortable, Inquisitor. You do not wish to be seen as one of them, but it would be best. We must blend if the court is to find interest in you in any way. Elves are not… well regarded in those walls.” It was Josephine who spoke, softer as she tried to gently inform the Herald why she must conform. Aravae frowned as well.

“Why must she? Because she is an elf? She is also the Inquisitor, which there has not been for the better part of 800 years now. You say the court will not be interested if she does not fit in, but that does not mean she should simply blend in with the crowds around her. If you wish to enthral your court. Make a statement. Being that elves are not highly regarded within Halamshiral, you should use that to your advantage. Be an elf that is highly regarded, as you are. People do not follow you for the shape of your ears. Show them that they do not matter when lives are at stake.” She had heard stories of the Winter Palace, none appealing for her people. Perhaps seeing an elf in the court, unaffected by chains, would be the best course of action for many.

“Then what, pray-tell, should she wear then? A Ferelden frock? I hardly see how it is any different.” Vivienne frowned at her, arms crossed pointedly. Aravae felt her annoyance rise once more. She hadn’t liked the woman when she first met her. Her attitude toward apostates was more than disgusting. A sheep who happily remained in confines because it offered her luxury despite how it may kill others.

“She is a proud Elven. She should show it. Our ancestors had many dresses far finer than anything from this age. They are far more appropriate for battle as well, should the night come to it.” The words came wrapped in polite patience, yet anyone could hear the cold that lingered in the comment. She would not be looked down on by some shemlen who thought she knew better than everyone. Nor would her culture.

“And you would know of it? A rogue archer who had, what was it? Magical knowledge? Do tell, dear. How would you know so much of a culture, not even the Dalish have discovered despite lifetimes of searching?” Anger burned in her veins as the woman continue to speak; her words dripped in arrogance that sent all the elves in the room bristling in anger.

“She is a mage, Vivienne! A fade-walker just as Solas is, it is why she is here. Regardless, you have no right to speak of my culture in such a way, nor look down on my people. We do not need some shemlen’s pity, nor your opinion.” It was the Inquisitor who spoke, her voice laced with anger at the woman who had spoken far too confidently about issue’s she knew nothing of. Aravae felt her nose twitch as she heard her true nature be told. Her eyes flickered to Cullen, who did not seem to react at all. Instead, his eyebrows furrowed in concern, a slight frown on his lips. It appeared he did not like the enchanter’s words anymore then they had. At Ellana’s words, Vivienne seemed to realise her mistake. She unfolded her arms and held them straight at her sides, her shoulder squared in quiet dignity.

“I apologise, Inquisitor. My words were not meant to offend. I merely wonder how knowledge of cultures lost long ago will help in this regard. I understand wanting to keep your heritage and be proud. Still, I am sorry to say, cotton and leather that the Dalish wear will not be enough to impress the court. That is a fact.” Aravae frowned deeply. Her arms crossing to try and quell the magic that wished to press forward. However, as she felt the familiar current of electricity ripple just beneath her skin, she felt a different cold wave flow over her. She turned her head slightly, realising Solas was looking to her in concern. She released her pent-up breath and relaxed her shoulders. She was taking all of this too personally.

“Who said we were to use cotton and leather? Silk and gold were far more popular amongst the ancient elvhen.” The words were final. Aravae then turned away from the enchanter, refusing to let her speak again. She instead turned to Ellana and Solas. One seemed entirely composed, while the other’s face was red and a frown curled on her lips. Aravae raised her hand gently, motioning towards the Herald.

“May I?” This confused the woman. Very rarely had they spoken directly to one another. The elf nodded hesitantly, not knowing what exactly she agreed to, but wanted nothing more than t to prove the Enchantress wrong. Without another word, Aravae closed her eyes and focused. She created the image of one of her old dresses in her mind, every detail from the soft silk ripples to the polished gold bands that wrapped around her waist and throat. The bands wrapped in a similar fashion to the Dalish armour, weaving against one another as if clothe rather than metal. Once she was satisfied, she lifted her hand and twirled it over the Herald, feeling the veil shift around them as she called forth her image. An illusion. It was once such an easy thing to cast, but now it required focus to keep it within this plane of existence. But as she opened her eyes, she was pleased. Pleased to see how the gown made the Inquisitor look regal, almost ethereal. Please that it had held so well. It meant her magic had been getting stronger, and her ability to cast was less unstable. A small smile circled on her lips as the Inquisitor stared in shock, looking down at the fitted white gown, her fingers making to touch the silk looking material, but they merely phased through the illusion. Aravae stepped to the side, allowing the other occupants to see the design. She was willing to admit she was proud. It had been one of her favourite gowns. Josephine gasped gently, lifting a hand to her mouth to cover it.

“Well, what were you saying, Vivienne? The Inquisitor must be interesting? I think we could all agree she’d be the most interesting thing in that place by the end of the night. Even the Empress will be jealous. Marvellous.” The once quiet man decided to finally chime in. She had been surprised he’d been so silent during the argument. However, he had mentioned to her, he had not had much interaction with elves outside of slavery. She tried to push the negative emotions down. He was currently on their side. She would ignore.

“Yes. Well. It would work. We should begin preparing immediately. I will send a letter to the seamstress about our change in plans. We should also get everyone fitted by tomorrow. Clothes take time to tailor; we must all look our best.” With that, the woman stride away. Aravae couldn’t help the smug feeling of victory that curled around her. She dispelled the illusion. One look at Dorian could tell her he was itching to ask something, but his eyes strayed to Ellana, and he refrained. She wondered what he was thinking. Instead, he clapped his hands in finality.

“Well, thank you so much for joining us. You’ve managed to break the stalemate we’ve been having for days now. Yet we will not force you to endure the other lessons Josephine had prepared for our lovely leader.” Said woman groaned loudly. The two elves then nodded and began to make their way to the door, but the Ambassador called to them before they could. She shuffled her clipboard for a moment before speaking.

“I wish to apologise for Vivienne’s words. They were not appropriate, and we are truly grateful you both remain with the Inquisition. Your help has been tremendous. However, I feel I must also inform you of the roles you must play when we travel to Val Royeaux… I apologise, but the only way we would be able to effectively have you both in Halamshiral with us, without suspicion, would be for you to act as the Inquisitor's hand servants.” The woman looked sheepish as she told them their role. Aravae merely offered her a friendly smile and nod.

“It is understandable, Ambassador. Thank you for informing us.” The woman seemed to relax at their calm response and nod to them before turning her attention back to the others. With that, they left the room, making a beeline for Solas’ rotunda. Despite how calm she appeared outwardly, she longed for solitude. Vivienne’s words ringing in her head even after she had one. Aravae felt the tingle of magic that flooded the room wordlessly, creating a barrier around them despite knowing Dorian was not in his usual spot. Her shoulders relaxed before she sneered deeply.

“Fenedhis lasa.” The words spat from her mouth before she could stop herself, causing the other to laugh slightly in surprise.

“I had not imagined her to affect you so easily, ma’enlea. Her words were arrogant and unnecessary, but most children tend to be when not taught otherwise.” He walked to her, wrapping his arms around her hips as she stood before his desk. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head as she leaned back into his hold, her lips tweaking in amusement. So that was how he viewed them all. Insolent children who knew no better. She supposed it was not entirely incorrect. It was not their fault, however, and she should have maintained more control over herself.

“Ir abelas. It was childish of me to react in such a way.” He shook his head at that.

“It was expected by anyone else. Your magic had gotten stronger. I am impressed.” He changed the subject, to which she was grateful. She smiled and lifted her hand, watching as lightning danced around her fingertips.

“Yes, Felassan had been helping me while you were busy with the Inquisitor.” She felt his arms tighten minutely around her waist. She looked up slightly in confusion to see him frowning somewhat. She wanted to ask him what bothered him, but before she could, he sighed.

“Ir abelas, ma’enlea. I had promised you I would help and then became distracted. Please, if you would allow, I would like to continue with you instead.” She beamed up at him happily.

“Oh, course! Nothing would make me happier. Felassan had to leave yesterday, regardless. I assume to go back to his duties. I will miss him; I hope I can see him again soon.” She looked down briefly, letting herself frown. The other grew silent. She became concerned and turned around to face him after a moment of silence dragged on. As she tried to ask him what was wrong, instead, his lips connected with her own. His thumb and forefinger gripping her chin lightly as his taller form hovered over. She had quickly forgotten what she meant to ask and accepted the kiss. It was sweet and only lasted a moment before he broke away.

“He has a job to do. In the meantime, I wish to atone for the time I have wasted.” She looked at him in confusion once more. He only smirked and pulled her back with him. Eventually, he fell to the long seat and pulled her down on top of him. She flushed pink at the sudden movement as she landed straddling his waist and her hands found purchase on his broad shoulders. She huffed and hit his shoulder as he chuckled from beneath her.

“You are going to give Dorian far too much to gossip about, fen.” He merely grins wolfishly up at her as he laid back against the soft cushion of the seat, effortlessly lifting her, so she remained in his lap as he spread out. She feels her face flush more as they end up in a very inappropriate position if someone were to walk in. She rolled her eyes at him, knowing he had done it on purpose. For all his maturity he had gained over the millennia’s he had spent asleep. Apparently, he hadn’t matured from other habits. She shifted, so she was instead laying on top of him, allowing her legs to dangle over the edge of the seat as his did. She felt him curl around her, to which she did the same, resting her head against his neck. The seat was far too small to hold two lyings down, but she would not complain as she closed her eyes, relishing in his heat once again. It had been weeks since they had slept together. And she had felt every day.

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Her eyes opened to reveal the changing form of the Fade. It instantly caused her to relax. She had fallen asleep. Although she suspected that had been his intention all along. He had always valued his time in the Fade. She hummed gently to herself as she began to walk, expecting him to appear by her at any moment. The world around her, shifting into a path covered in old vegetation that had long since become extinct. It seemed to glow in the light as she followed the worn dirt to no place in particular. It had been months since they had met here… why did it feel like so much longer all of a sudden. She sighed to herself. She had feelings. Strong feelings. Stronger than she was willing to admit t herself. Only time would tell if they would only grow or become crushed under his own decisions. It was a mistake to fall for him now. Knowing everything that could happen. That he would try to complete. Yet as she imagined herself sleeping in his arms at that very moment, she couldn’t find it in her to care. Instead, she foolishly hoped to save him from his perceived path. He did not have to follow it. Not for her. She tried to rid herself of the sad thoughts, suddenly wondering if he had planned for them to fall asleep together. Where was he? Suddenly, it was like she was being pulled. Called. She allowed the feeling to wash over her, her eyes closing as the world around her began to shift too quickly to keep up with it. It was not until she heard his gentle humming did, she realise she had stopped. She opened her eyes to find herself standing on the second floor of his main temple. Looking over the balcony onto the shimmering white floor, wisps and spirits floated gently around the area, curious at the bright illusion as the walls glittered with gold and marble. Crystal beads were draped over the roof and large pillars that surrounded them. She smiled, listening to the old tune he hummed as he comes to stand at her side. It was the hall he held many of his own parties in. A fitting dream, given the days' events. She chuckled under her breath and turned to him. Expecting to find her love in his usual clothes, but instead, he adored his old attires for such a place. A white silk tunic covered his arms while an intricately woven black piece adorned his chest. Gold plate covered his neck and collar, the same that covered his wrists and clasped to his ears. She smiled at him, realising he had not reclaimed his hair as he had the first time they met in the Fade. She had grown used to it. It suited him. Defined all of his sharp features even more. She lifted her hand, running it gently down his right shoulder to the black belt that adored his waist. A white fur appeared in her wake.

“Better.” He chuckled and nodded, offering her, which she accepted. Only now realising the gold rings that decorated her slim fingers. She looked down at herself and realised she wore the dress she had woven for the Inquisitor. The one she had worn too many events held in this very hall that surrounded them. She watched as he bowed and pressed his lips to the back of her hand, sending shivers up her arm. She could not stop herself from joining in on his humming as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressing against one another as his hand rested low on her back, his other grasping her hand firmly as he twirled them around with little effort. She followed him instinctively; despite how long it had been, their moves were well-practised. Their familiarity making it all effortless as they whirled around together, imaginary music playing in their ears from times long since passed. She laughed as he twirled her away from him, spinning her in a circle twice before pulling her back and dipping her over his opposite arm. She let one of her arms curls around his neck while the other spread, the dip deep around for her fingers to graze the floor before he lifted her back into his arms. She couldn’t stop the smile that hurt her cheeks. This. This had been the moments she had missed so much from her world. Moments that were drenched in beauty, untainted by limited time, touched by so many smiling faces that would usually accompany them as they danced. She wished the moment would never end, despite knowing it must. But as he pulled her back into his arms, their movements halting as they simply held each other, surrounded by the memories of a time they longed for, she couldn’t help but promise him. Promise herself.

“We will do this again, ma’fen. In a world that respects our race once again. We will dance in halls build by our kin, surrounded by peace and freedom. That, I promise you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope you're still enjoying this story. I know it has changed a bit since the first few chapters but I still want to keep the characters as well as their reactions to events believable. Unfortunately, that means not as many cutesy moments as I would like. Halam'shiral is up next though! Yay!


	24. Halam'Shiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologise for such a late update. I just started a new job and one of the workers was injured so I had to take a bunch of extra shifts. I'm hoping in have another chapter out by tomorrow since it's my day off. 
> 
> Also, yay! We hit 1000 hits. I hope you are all enjoying the story. Thank you to comments and kudos, they do mean so much to me.

The week following had been more than trying in many ways for almost all of the inner circle. Most were not thrilled at the news of having to attend such an event, some more vocal than others. None as vocal as Sera. She had made it more than obvious she was not impressed with the royal court, unsurprising giving her attitudes to anyone with authority. Aravae had tried to see things from the young elf’s perspective. She has already seen the injustice of elves. However, she could not understand why holding a judge against the said injustice race was helpful in any way. She seemed to wish to be as far removed from elves as possible.

Many who did so wanted to be more accepted into elite circles and such despite their ears. Although she also wished to rid anyone of any power or influence. It was… contradicting in many ways. As the girl herself was. Aravae had partially given into the fact they would most likely never see eye to eye about things. They were simply too different. She too young. And Aravae to old and set in her beliefs. It did not help that Sera and Solas seemed to cross each other more than anyone else on the team. Neither willing to give up their pride to simply be civil and respect the views of the other. She sighed. She wasn’t that surprised. She was surprised when the Herald had managed to convince the young elf to come alone, not happily, but she had given in. It was a worry what had been promised in order to make the rogue change her mind. Nothing good, she firmly believed.

The others were less resistant. She could confidently say, none other than Dorian and Vivienne were happy to go – save Josephine and Leliana. Apparently, they were both quite familiar with the game. Aravae could imagine why Leliana, of all, would appreciate court intrigue; people were more than happy to gossip at these events. None ever considering who exactly was listening. The week had been odd for Aravae. Between helping everyone else ready themselves and being drilled with information and proper servant protocol, she had been sombre. Lost in her thoughts of previous lives. She was sad to say it was all the same. No matter where she was, she was always in a war. Whether it was actively waging or waiting for the right moment. There was always someone wanting to overtake another. There was always work to do when you were a spy. A deep sigh left the woman. She couldn’t decide how she felt about it all. It made her tired. The constant fighting, the lies, the tricks, the illusions she would weave for others. She knew it was necessary. It was to protect those she held close; to fight for freedom required blood and secrets. It was an unfortunate truth. Everything was paid in blood. She once believed she’d paid for her sins. Paid for the life, she had led when she laid on the forest floor bleeding out, her blood mixing with the innocent she had sworn to protect. When she had awoken again, she thought that life had been pushed behind her. She had been foolish to believe such a thing. One so seeped in war could never escape. Once a spy, you were always a spy. You would never forget your training, never forget to observe a whole room when you entered it, constantly checking for threats, always listening to things you shouldn’t be. Searching for exits, vantage points, higher grounds, knowing where someone could shoot an arrow from without being seen or who walked with more caution than others. It was always the same. Just the faces changed. You learnt faces when you played the game for so long. And she had played it for far too long now.

The carriage had halted suddenly, sending her back from her memories. She sighed as she realised they must have arrived. After weeks of preparation, tonight, they would finally strike. Everyone had their role to play; hers was more familiar than she had ever told them. That of the servant. How many times had she stood at Falon’Din’s side, her body altered into that of his sentinel guards, listening to him spout off his ideas and intentions? How many times had she been dressed in rags with Andruil’s servants, listening to them speak about what happened around the castles? It was a role she knew too well. A position she could play perfectly. She had not become a God’s right hand merely by being his friend. Despite what others may believe.

“We have arrived.” The chaperon opened the door for her, and she felt the cool breeze of the night enter the carriage, cooling it significantly with all the bodies inside. She watched as Dorian offered her a hand to stand, which she gladly took and stepped outside, allowing him, Blackwall and Bull to follow after her. It had been quite a cramped ride with the men, but luckily it had also been quiet. All seemed to have things on their mind as they drew nearer to the palace. Letting out a careful breath, she clutched her cloak to her tighter as they entered the gates. Many whispers could be heard as they entered, mainly about The Iron Bull and herself. Knife ear. It had been some time since she had heard it. It made her hate the place with renewed passion. The stories she had heard suddenly becoming much more believable. She forced herself to relax, allowing her shoulders to straighten, but her head kept low. Small strands of hair couldn’t reach the intricate braid that revealed her ears, instead, framing her face lightly. The Inquisitor had made a point to display all of their heritage. Nothing would be hidden as it did not require hiding. A small part of Aravae was proud of the woman. Happy that she still remained proud of her people despite where she had been led. It brought some comfort. Although it would not do to be too proud. After all, she was a servant, nothing more than a handmaid to these sheep dressed as wolves. The small group continued into the palace entrance, the men entering before and walking off to secure the areas. She had been stopped, however, by a young elf. A boy, no older than 15 summers.

“May I take your coat, Ma’am?” His clothes didn’t fit him properly. It was not drastically noticeable, only that his shoulders did not fill out the dark uniform. Too small for such a thing. It had been designed for a man. Why waste money on clothes for a boy when they would eventually grow into a man anyways? She frowned for a second. It was always the same.

“Ma serannas, lethallin. You are too kind.” The boy’s face seemed to heat up as she smiled down at him. She removed her cloak and passed it to him gently. He offered her a sheepish smile and nodded, eyes darting around them. She paused. He was nervous. More so than one should be merely gathering clothes.

“I must say, it is quite terrifying walking into something so extravagant.” She whispered sheepishly, letting her hands rub together in a nervous tick, flicking her eyes around in a nervous manner. She felt a hand rest on her arm gently, as if unsure it was allowed.

“It usually is for us servants. Especially elves. I hope they are kind to you, lethallan. Please, do not hesitate to seek out the others if you need help.” His smile seemed more reassuring at her shyness. She grinned too wide up at him and nodded at his words in thanks. Brown eyes turned wide as a faint red crept onto his cheeks. He coughed slightly and turned his head before hanging it. It was a sandy blonde, almost blending into the tan of his skin. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, which seemed to make him look up once more, the red still staining his cheeks. Her eyes darted around them, noticing no one was too close to hear.

“Are you okay, lethallin?” He did the same. His voice was low as he whispered.

“If I could be so bold… I’d suggest keeping away from the servant quarters tonight. For your own safety.” She paused with the information but nodded, squeezing his shoulder tightly before releasing it.

“Ma serannas, Lethallin. I will heed your words. Please, be careful then.” His eyes widened at her words before he grinned sheepishly once more and nodded.

“Of course. I hope you enjoy the night.” With that, she entered the glittering gold of the Winter Palace. It was pretty. Far prettier than anywhere else she had seen from these lands. Much of its design seemed to be remnants of Arlathan architecture, but it was not the same. Not nearly as grand as their halls once were. She strolled, her head lowered slightly, eyes to the ground. Her hands clutched in front of her as she walked, listening to those around her. Most of it was drivel. Nonsense gossip that meant nothing. Nothing about something going very wrong for the night. Although there were other things, some darker than others. She would have to listen more later. She weaved through the crowds effortlessly, many ignoring her or merely sneering down at her. She could hear comments being made, the knife-ear in a pretty dress. What was the Inquisitor thinking? She couldn’t help the slight pang of pride when she thought of their shock at discovering the Inquisitor was, in fact, a knife ear herself. She also heard the less than savoury comments. She was more than accustomed to hearing insults thrown her way, but listening to men speak of her body was another thing. Lecherous smiles on their faces as they watched her with keen eyes; she made a point to remember their faces and steer clear as the night grew on. Alcohol never made men think any better. Aravae eventually inspected most of the halls, idly walking around, looking at pictures and statutes. Acting enamoured with them in a way to distract that she was really listening to the people around her talk. Having an elf’s hearing in such a place was a blessing as much as a curse. Blessed for the spy in her, cursed for the woman beneath who was forced to listen to guards and noblemen speak of what they would do with such a _pretty knife-ear_. She tried desperately not to clench her jaw in annoyance. She needed to be meek. No one trusted a bold servant. She needed to be trusted. To be looked down on. That way, she was distinctly separated from the upper class and welcomed by her fellow servants. That’s where the information would be. Its always where the information is.

She continued to idly walk around, listening to the people around her speak. They were all rather terrible at the game. Hiding behind masks because they couldn’t control their expressions. Laughing too easily or sneering too openly at those they opposed. It was all rather childish, in her opinion. How would these people ever last in events that lasted weeks as theirs once did? She hummed under her breath. They wouldn’t. They didn’t need to. There were no more immortals. They were just relics of a lost time now. Her steps eventually led her to an emptier hall. Her eyes flickered around, catching Blackwall for a moment, speaking with a nobleman. He seemed uncomfortable, straight-backed, but fidgety. The nobleman seemed to recognise him. Strange. She would keep the information for later. Instead, she caught his eye for a moment. Everyone was instructed to ignore her tonight unless they wanted something. She was to play the part of a servant, and they needed to enforce that. His hand lifted, gesturing her over.

“Oi, girl. Come here.” She immediately turned and made her way down the steps to the two, head lowered the closer she walked to them. She could feel the eyes of the other man on her as well. She also knew two other pairs were watching from a distance.

“Y-Yes, Ser Blackwall?” The stutter was almost unconscious. She released just how ingrained this alter-personality was in her. Even the warrior seemed to be slightly taken back by her change in demeanour.

“Ah yeah, go get me a drink, would you? None of the others have come around. Seems I have to rely on what the Inquisition has brought, as always.” It was a subtle jab. But one that made the man beside them chuckle. It was enough. Small words would travel quickly.

“Yes, Ser. Right away, Ser.” She bowed lowly and backed away in the same stance before turning and hurrying up the steps. She was quickly caught by two chattering elves that had been watching the display.

“You. You’re one of the elves the Inquisitor brought with her. An Inquisition servant.” One seemed curious while the other scoffed and folded her arms.

“Imagine an elf given even the slightest bit of power, and they force their own kin to serve under them. No better than all the others.” She sneered in distaste. Aravae bites her lip gently. It was unavoidable that some of the servants would end up disliking the Herald for having elven servants. But she would try to mitigate some.

“I-It is not so bad; she is very kind. And I am paid well in comparison to a simple barmaid.” She tried to grin sheepishly, her hands wringing against one another. The feistier elf sighed and uncrossed her arms.

“Still. For all the Dalish preach about never submitting, she sure has fallen into a human’s religious role quite well. Anyway. Your ser wanted wine, right? I’m assuming no one’s actually shown you where the kitchens or cellars are. Come on, you can come with us.” The redhead grabbed for her arm and pulled her along. The other brunette smiled reassuringly at her and followed along.

“Ma serannas.” The words seemed to give the two pauses, glancing at once another before they both smiled at her. They managed to slip away from the crowd into easily ignored doors. Servants’ passages. They may come in useful later.

“So, you’re nothing like the other one. Why’s that?” It was the redhead who seemed to be the boldest of the two; she almost reminded her of Ellana.

“What do you mean?” She drew her eyebrows close. She hadn’t seen Solas yet. Although to imagine he wasn’t playing the role of servant entirely as she was, was less than surprising.

“The bald elf that’s been talking with the Inquisitor. Everyone says he’s a servant too, but he doesn’t act like it. They seemed to be rather close, as well.” This time it was the brunette who spoke up. Her voice wasn’t as brash as her counterpart; in fact, it seemed more teasing and humorous.

The other scoffed.

“Go figure. Another elven servant used as a plaything. You’d think they would learn it never gets you anywhere. Look how Briala turned out.” That made Aravae pause. That name. It sounded familiar for some reason.

“Briala?” She questioned lightly. She was thankful the two seemed so friendly. Although maybe it was because they saw her as just another one of them. Another unfortunate fate held under the weight of oppression. They didn’t seem nearly as friendly to the idea of Solas. She wanted to laugh at that. They didn’t trust the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Unsurprising. But her question seemed to catch the attention of the other two.

“You don’t know of her?” The brunette seemed surprised. As did the redhead, although she seemed more suspicious with her eyebrows drawn.

“Ah… no? I’m sorry… I was originally sent from the Free Marches to join the Inquisition with my former Master. Orlais politics kind of… confuse me.” She spoke softly, lowering her head once more as if ashamed to admit such a thing. The other two immediately reached for her, each placing a hand on the opposite arm. She looked up to see them smiling reassuringly at her.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s all confusing anyway. I don’t even think they understand it half of the time. Just want to be at the top of it all.” It was the brunette that spoke. Her voice was soft and reassuring. The redhead cut in boisterously.

“Yeah! The most you need to know is that there are three main players. Celene, obviously. Duke Gaspard, who’s a complete brute and idiot. I don’t know how he even thinks his plans will work. And Briala. The Empress’ former lover and the courts' previous elven ambassador.”

“She thought she could change the elves standing by sleeping with the one in charge. Look how well that’s gone. Instead, she was almost exhaled and would be if their affair was to ever get out. Honestly, I don’t know what she was thinking.” Aravae kept the information as they arrived at the Cellar. She quickly poured two glasses. One for Blackwall and one for the Inquisitor. They needed to speak.

“It all seems dreadfully complicated. I can imagine why you would think Solas is the same. I apologise for him.” The other two only laughed.

“No need, lethallan. He is awfully nice to look at. I can’t say I blame her.” It was the redhead who winked at her before they all parted off. Aravae coughed slightly in surprise at the sudden flash of annoyance that passed over her. Jealousy? No. She was not jealous of other people merely looking at him. She was correct. He was nice to look at. Too nice. She huffed slightly and continued with them. She tried to bring up another point they had brushed over.

“You said the Duke was aa brutish man? How so?” _I don’t know how he even thinks his plan will work._ What plan?

“Oh. Him. Ugh. He’s related to the empress somehow. Who cares. Thinks he’s entitled to the throne. Will do anything and everything to get it. Some say he’s planning something with the treaties tonight. No idea what. Probably going to parade in some soldiers and make a show like they always do.” The redhead complained, waving her hand dismissively. The brunette frowned, obviously believing differently.

“You shouldn’t blow it off so much. The others have been talking. Apparently, some of the servants have been going missing. Only a few, but they were all helping Celene with something. We should be careful. Who knows what could happen tonight?” Aravae felt the small whirl of satisfaction curl in her chest. To all the negatives of being a spy, it was, at times, advantageous. She eventually stepped back out into the glittering walls of the main halls. She smiled at the two who had helped her.

“Thank you so much, Lethallan. Your generosity is most kind and appreciated. I hope I will see you both later.” They smiled back at her and waved goodbye. She was not lying. By the sounds of it, there were good chance servants were being targeted. If not directly, indirectly for their knowledge or what they had seen. She grounded her teeth slightly. None of it was good. Something was definitely happening, and she wondered how Corypheus was a part of it all. Regardless, she needed to speak with the Inquisitor. And she knew who to look for to find her. Aravae brought Blackwall his drink; luckily, he was alone now. He had apologised to her for his words, but she merely smiled and shook her head.

Telling him, he did well. He seemed flustered over the compliment, and she left him that way, more focused on the information she had gathered. She apparently did not have to look far because they were rather apparent as she entered the next room. She paused momentarily, taking in the sight of Solas dressed in black with a gold sash over his shoulder. The Inquisition emblem pining it together while the Inquisitor stood by his side, smiling, radiant in the dress designed by her. The tailor had done an excellent job of replicating the old design. It was not perfect, as she had expected, but it was still beautiful on the young elf. She almost looked like she had stepped out of Arlathan herself. If she stood but a little taller. She felt a pang in her chest as Solas seemed to laugh with her about something, them both speaking lowly with one another, hidden away in a corner. No wonder the other servants had gotten that impression. They were not being… subtle. She refused to admit her own biased on the subject. She began walking forward, the glass of wine in her hand, the other bend around her back. Shoulders squared as she walked to the woman. Her gaze was entirely on the other woman, deciding it was best to not be completely distracted by her friend so early.

“Your worship.” She bent slightly and handing her the wine. Ellana seemed to be more taken back than Blackwall was. Her blond hair was tied in traditional Arlathan weaves, something she assumed had been Solas’ doing. Which left nothing to the imagination when it came to expression. It was relieving yet, possibly dangerous in the game they were playing. The Inquisitor seemed to be too shocked to comment as she stood dumbly, taking the glass from the usually proud woman who bowed to her.

“…Thank you, Aravae.” The words seemed more forced than anything. Not from anger but more confusion than anything else. Aravae almost wanted to smirk in pride. She knew her role. She could play it well. She nodded her head in reply before looking around them. She then let her gaze fall to Solas, surprised to notice his blue eyes were already on her. She tried to force the sudden flush of heat on her cheeks down. He seemed to understand her as she felt the slightest tingle of magic encircle them. She had been around him long enough to know whenever he used magic. To others, it was invisible. Even other mages. She assumed not even Ellana knew they had a sound barrier around them.

“The servants believe Duke Gaspard is planning something. Possibly the coup from your… experience. However, I believe there is more to it. I’ve been warned to stay away from the servant’s quarters; you’d best start there. Servants have been going missing since the event started, so I would be cautious and prepared for what you may find. Most likely, many dead. And many more before the nights over if not stopped. There’s more. You’d do well to find an elven woman named Briala. She’s the elven ambassador and Celene’s former lover. Do with that information what you will. She’s seen as one of the contributing players in this game, so there is more to her than merely an Empress’ toy.” Aravae continued with her findings even as Ellana began to cut her off. It would be best to tell it all while she remembered clearly. Lives were obviously being lost; they didn’t have time to waste on idle chatter. The Inquisitor seemed to frown at the information.

“You got all of this from servants?” Aravae almost frowned at the disbelieving tone but kept her smile polite as others were still able to see them.

“Yes, your worship. You would be surprised how much the servants know of high up plans. Many believe servants are stupid or illiterate, unable to hold information about plans and discuss them openly. It is an arrogance that will ultimately defeat them.” The Herald sighed softly and nodded.

“I will see to it. I want you to stay in sight, keep speaking with the servants and find out what you can. Solas, you can come with me to investigate the servant’s quarters.” The woman paused to think about who else to take, but Aravae frowned once more. Feeling the all too familiar burn in her chest once again tonight.

“With all due respect, your worship. I do not believe it is best to be seen within only the company of your servants. Rumours have already begun to spread about the nature of your relationship.” She was being blunt. Maybe unnecessarily so. But it was for the best; they needed to appear trustworthy and respected. A leader having an open affair with an elven servant will get you nowhere in a court such as this. Her words seemed to cause the young woman’s cheeks to turn red. However, her eyes narrowing.

“How dare you-“ But it was Solas who spoke over her.

“She is right, Inquisitor. It is best you did not remain here the whole night, or it will be deemed suspicious, and we are here to gain your favour. We will continue to be your eyes while you are busy.” The young elf seemed annoyed still but held her tongue.

“Very well.” And with that, she strolled away. The sway of the soft material hiding the fact she seemed to almost be marching in the opposite direction.

“I must say it is… fascinating to see your work. I did not have the pleasure before. I regret that now.” She felt her cheeks flush gently at his words. She turned to him and finally took all of him in. No wonder the others had so much to say about him. He looked nothing like a servant. She looked down at herself, dressed in a simple white gown that slimmed down her torso before flaring at her hips, falling in gentle white curtains. It was nothing flashy but nice for a servant. While Solas appeared to be dressed like all the other men where rather than a servant. She couldn’t hide her smirk.

“And I must say I’m not surprised that you do not fit the role of a servant.” His blue eyes sparkled in mischief, a smirk tugging at his own lips as he looked down at her from his spot, leaning leisurely against an expensive-looking statue, wine glass perched in his hand.

“And what would give you such an idea, ma’enlea?” His tone was teasing, and she scoffed gently. Typical wolf. She went to respond before she was interrupted by a hand offering her a glass of her own wine. She blinked in shock before turning to a familiar head of red curls. Her lips were curled in a knowing grin as she winked at Aravae. She flushed even more profoundly as she took the wine and looked away but could not ignore her following comment.

“A much better choice, Ser.” There was a good chance she would have spat out her drink if she had taken a sip right away. She turned back to the woman who was already leaving before catching Solas’ eye once more. His grin was even more apparent. She sighed and gave him a look. He ignored it.

“I, wholeheartedly, agree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More flirty wolf. I've missed him. 
> 
> Also, please send the picture of the dress you thought of TheJabberwokk, I'd love to see it!

**Author's Note:**

> Please give some feedback, do you like it, do you hate it? What do you think will happen?
> 
> Seriously, I love hearing peoples theories no matter how early into the story it is. Lay it on me.


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